Homecoming: Rupture
by ClearlyInvsible
Summary: With Anakos defeated and Corrin on the throne of Valla, the Awakening trio make their way back to Ylisse. Paired with their otherworldly spouses, they find their way home. However, the world they left behind hasn't remained idle, with each of them thrust into new conflicts and journeys. First in a series, chronicling Severa/Selena's first person accounts of her family's Homecoming.
1. Prologue: Forest Fall

"Ugh… what… where…"

My head is stomping like a pegasus stampede, pressure hammering harshly against my earbuds. The entire world is just… spinning around me, as if the sky was a massive blue and white whirlpool. Stupid… dragon… when he told us that his dumb crystal would take us back, he didn't mention it would give us a hangover too. What is it with these stupid Gods never giving us the full story?

"Laslow!? Odin!? One of you idiots, help me up!" I call, brushing a hand up to fix my bangs. Drunkenly, I sit up. The world still feels like it's made of smoke, nothing seems solid. My vision's finally clearing though. Looking left and right, trying to make heads or tails of where we had landed. Too much green for Nohr… but these trees didn't seem Hoshidan either. Certainly didn't look anything like Valla.

"Subaki?" I call out, slowly pushing myself up to my feet. Standing is as hard as I expected. It was as if I was at sea on a rocking frigate, instead of lost in the middle of the woods. Staying stable is its own effort, but… slowly, things stop rocking. My head stops pounding. The world stops spinning.

"Caeldori!?" I called out again, pitch jumping up as the words hung in my throat.

'"Hello? Everyone!?"

I'm only greeted by the forest's silence, so I start to look over my person. Make sure that everything is where it's supposed to be. Armor seems intact, the leather doesn't appear to be broken at any of the seams. Still, I've got grass stains blotching all over the black dye. I can feel a few blades of grass still hanging in my hair, even as I try to pull them off. Rapier seems to be intact, same with the shield. But the metal's seen better days, red paint peeling off from all the blows it's deflected. Gods, I'm a mess. Mother would be beyond irate if she saw me look like this…

I quickly bring my hands up to my mouth, yelling as strongly as my lungs can manage. "This isn't **FUNNY** , you guys!" But still, nothing. The only reply I get is the sound of wildlife scuttering around in the treeline that surrounds me. This is… bad. Now I'm actually starting to worry.

Start to move forwards, craning my head up to see the the angle of the sun. The orange ball of fire's just perched up above me, glowering down upon the clearing like some sort of unwanted blemish. But it's getting lower and lower. My shadow trails out behind me like a Kitsune's tail, the dusk's chill is finally starting to register. Sundown's almost here, I need to hurry.

Picking up the pace, moving into a jog. The sun's retreat is broken off as the trees cover my advance through the woods. A few birds mock me from above as they soar past, goading me into a full run. Stupid, stupid, stupid. We should've known this would have happened. Anakos created the crystal for only three people. We ended up bringing _nine_ back home! Why didn't we think of this? Why am I such an idiot!?

"Subaki!? Caeldori!? Inigo, Owain? **SOMEONE**!?"

And then I finally hear it over the distance. A voice, low and male. Gruff, incomprehensible. Not a voice I've heard before. But it's a voice, it's a sign of life. Another, new voice follows. Then another, then another, then… a cry of pain, sharp and curt, coming from a young woman.

This time, the birds couldn't even keep up with me.

* * *

At the far end I find a break in the foliage. A proper road, pressed down and cobbled. Wide, with the trees around it having been uprooted and cleared. A small wagon train, three carriages each pulled by a horse was waiting there. The center wagon was uncovered, barrels and bags poking out from the top. All stacked in a uniform manner, clearly having gone through some kind of inspection. The two that lead and followed are covered, I can't see what's inside.

At the front an older man clad in armor stands puffing a pipe. Never understood why people smoke, the stuff looks and smells so… _ugh._

His back faced away from the traveling direction of the caravan, clearly observing some sort of event towards the center. At the rear wagon, two younger looking soldiers seem to be talking with each other, not paying much mind themselves.

Then near the center, I see it.

On the ground a red-haired girl lay on her side, groaning loudly. Her hands clutch around her stomach, form rolling slightly. The man above her seems apathetic, the shield on his shoulder and light garb matching that of a usual mercenary. Another figure stands behind him, a female mage. In her hands are two long Naginatas, ones that seemed alien in her grip. Heck she's basically analysing them like they're some kind of ancient relic, totally enamored by the foreign weapons.

"For the last time." The mercenary barks out, moving around the injured girl with a slow and deliberate pace. His boots seemingly drawing a semi-circle in the road around her as he marches. "What are your orders!? What's a Chon'sin scouting party doing this far inside Valmese borders!?"

Valm. Ok, good. It brought us back to where we left from. That means we're back in my world… but that doesn't explain where everyone else ended up. The others wouldn't have just abandoned us like this. Not by choice. And why does he think Caeldori's from Chon'sin? Their armor's similar but… it's still pretty distinct. I guess the real question is why does he care?

Ugh, this is making less and less sense...

"I already told you." I can hear her reply, words slurred as she rolled over and tried to push herself back up onto her feet. "I don't... know what... you're **talking about!** " Caeldori bellows back. Even I'm reeling away, last time I ever heard her use a tone like this was when she had given Saizo's son some kind of demerit.

"Do I look like an moron, girl?" The man continues, not stopping his walk as he spoke. Each word he emotes with a flamboyantly stupid hand-gesture. "That armor's clearly Chon'sin in origin, and you don't look Valmese! So again, what in the name of the Voice are you doing here!?"

At this point, Caeldori's brought herself up to a knee, seemingly struggling to take in breath as she just glared upwards at the man. He decides to respond by throwing another kick towards her, high up between her eyes. My blade's leaving it's scabbard before I even think, ready to lunge out of the trees and end this dastard.

Luckily, I don't have to

In a flash of movement, both of her hands shoot up and clamp around his boot. Before the mercenary can even react to what was going on, the warrior-woman jerks his foot to the side, causing him to lose balance and slam into the gravel. Without missing a beat, Caeldori lunges up and straddled the man, starting to throw a flurry of strikes at his visage.

He didn't even bind her hands? Wow, this guy really is a moron.

But this buys me a great opening

As the brawl gets more and more audible, both combatants kicking and screaming, the two soldiers from before get up and grabbed their spears. The wagon they had been guarding begins to rock ever-so slightly on it's own. The older man remains still, puffing his pipe as he observed the scuffle. The mage backs away completely, clearly not wanting to get involved in the slightest. All eyes seem completely focused on the flamboyant idiot getting the pounding of a lifetime.

Quickly I rush onto the road, approaching behind the armored old man. Right as I get behind the sod, I can see his head turn ever so slightly as my feet hit the cobblestone. Too little, too late. I bring my foot against his ankle as hard as I could, staggering him down onto a knee, then smashing my hand-guard against the back of his head. All at once he just crumples to the ground. The thud's drowned out by the fight, and the others are already preoccupied as is.

From there I curve around the opposite side, the area seemingly clear of soldiers. Judging from the smacks and screams, the fistfight has been replaced by a full-on wrestling match, the two new soldiers seemingly now trying to pry Caeldori off of her target with no avail. "Get her off! Get this crazy witch off of me!"

As I reach the rear wagon, it's still rumbling and shaking on its own. OK, someone is definitely in here, and they want out. So I clamber in to finally see who it is.

In the very back, my idiot has his hands bound together against a post. His hair was down, shrouding his face and making him look like a mangy mutt. A large gash was popping from above his right eye, dried red streaking down a cheek. At first, he was too focused on his bindings to even notice me come up to the rear. But as I enter, his eyes zip down and his legs rear back, ready to strike at whomever was closing in.

As he realizes it was me, his wild eyes soften, moving his feet back and giving me ample room to move forward and cut his binds. "Thank the Gods, Selena. You had us worried sick!" He exclaims. Once he's free he rubs at the ropeburn branding his wrists.

"Me? What about you two!? I woke up and everyone was gone! Do you realize how worried I was!?" I snap back, grabbing him by the shoulders and helping him upright. Not sure if I want to kiss him or tenderize him for making me panic like he did. But before I could decide, a metallic 'CLUNK' rung through the air, followed by a man screaming in pain.

Both of us freeze, look at each other in the eyes, and utter a single name simultaneously.

"Caeldori!" We cry, scampering out of the wagon and rushing around the corner towards the brawl.

Well, _former_ brawl. The fight was basically over.

The mercenary lay on the ground, his head tilted to the side and his body motionless except for his chest ever slightly rising and lowering. One of the spearmen is splayed out against the side of the middle wagon, head dipped behind the boards and arms clinging to the side. The second is even worse, lying face-down on the road with a small stream of red pouring from an extremely crooked nose. His pain-filled moan filled the air, a now dented metal helmet resting next to his form.

All that's left was the singular mage, holding the larger of the two naginatas as if it was some kind of pike. The tip wavers, the woman looks horrified as Caeldori's scuffed up form marched forwards. The girl brings her hands together, grinning rather evilly as she cracked her knuckles in anticipation.

"She reminds me of you when she's upset." Subaki observes with a nervous laugh, pulling a band from his belt and doing his hair back up into it's usual style. I couldn't help but smirk as I watched the fight reach it's terminus.

"She got it from the better half of the family." I reply, waiting for the mage to make a move.

As Caeldori moved up, the mage made a clumsy forward thrust with the weapon. Over-extending herself and losing her footing, all the while over-choreographing the strike. All it takes is for Caeldori to sidestep the blade, grabbing it at the top of the shaft and ripping it out of her grasp. She then spun around in a sharp turn, swinging the blunt end of the weapon about and smashing it harshly against her combatant's temple. With that one strike, the woman stumbles back and fell to the ground, her mage hat flying off unceremoniously and fluttering down next to her.

"I _told you,_ I don't know what you're talking about!" Caeldori roared with finality, spinning the polearm around and holding it at her side. With a sigh, the burned out teenager just collapses down onto the roadway, clearly exhausted from having dealt with the guards.

"Now, the get front wagon ready. I'll help her inside." I say simply, not waiting for my companion to respond before rushing over to lift the depleted woman up.

* * *

"So let me get this straight." I begin, running a cloth over the blade of my rapier as we continued into the horizon. We've been riding away for well over an hour, no one has tried to follow us yet. Subaki handles the reigns of the horses as I sit next to him, all the while Caeldori remains passed out in the rear. "We end up getting sent to that field, right?"

He nods, giving the left horse a bit of a tug to have us start turning left. He's been silent this entire time, and it's started to just irritate me. He always tries to act so _poised and calm_. Even after we were married, he only breaks his perfect facade rarely.

"No one else was with us. Laslow, Odin, neither of their families?"

He shakes his head this time. "No, only us three. I came to first, then Caeldori. I told her to wait with you, so I could get a bearing on our surroundings"

"But instead you ran into those soldiers and got jumped. They were yelling something about Chon'sin to you too?"

Once again, the red-haired man nods slowly. His eyes seemed rather hard, focused on the road ahead of him. He doesn't look at me, he doesn't turn around to peer into the wagon behind us. He doesn't move an inch. He just keeps staring forwards, like a statue.

"So either Caeldori went looking for you-" I continue, keeping my gaze level at the side of his face as we rode on. "-or she followed them and was caught herself."

Finally he sighs, his shoulders drooping simultaneously. "Selena, I know you're upset-"

"I'm upset? I'm _upset?"_ I start, exaspirated at the understatement. "I'm not upset Subaki."

Gritting my teeth and sheathing my sword back onto my hip, before shooting my hand up and jabbing him in the shoulder. "I'm **livid!** Of course Caeldori would have followed you! You should've stayed with us until I woke up!"

No reaction to the strike, instead just continuing to drive the horses onwards. "I know, I k-" He tries to answer, before I cut him off once more.

"Oh, you know? So why did you do it?"

"Because I thought the others might still be nearby!" He exclaims, clearly trying to defend his actions. "How was I supposed to know there was a squadron of soldiers who would accuse me of being an enemy spy!?"

"Even then, you could have waited for all of us to go together! Not rush off and leave us behind!" I shoot back. He's still looking at the road instead of me, and it's only making me even more angry. My hand grabs his shoulder and twists him so he's facing me. _"Look at me when I'm talking to you!"_

My Husband's normally calm and poised visage is now facing me with annoyance and frustration. "You were unconcious for almost an **hour!** I did what I thought was best!"

 **"How was that for the best!?** " I lob back, fuming.

This is going nowhere, he's too damn stubborn to admit he made a mistake. For once, just once, I wish he would act the same why he did when we first started seeing each other. "I'm not some damsel in distress, Subaki! I can handle myself in a fight!"

The man's face curled into a frown, his right hand whipping up to jab a finger at me. But once again, right before he could speak his mind, the wagon behind us rumbles. A long, loud snort erupts from the flaps, reminding us both of the precious cargo we were hauling.

Shooting one last glare to each other, we both resign ourselves back to our previous activities.

This isn't over though. Not by a long shot.


	2. C-1: Remilitarized Zone

"So. Hoooooooooooooot."

Before I thought that Plegia was the hottest place on the planet. With the desert, scorching sands, steamy winds and sun constantly tanning your hide. But Valm was giving even that horrible place a run for its money. For three days now we've been travelling in the direction of Chon'sin, without a single village or outpost in sight. We aren't worried about food, the wagon we 'borrowed' keeps us stocked up. What I'm worried about now, was if we're lost or not. The map we found was at least a decade old, and didn't give me any help in navigating us through this forest. So now we're just following the road, and this stupid map is now my fan. Except it isn't even keeping me cool, so it's still basically worthless.

"You could always go in the back with Caeldori." Subaki advised, his voice hoarse and strained. "She's probably gone back to sleep by now."

My husband wasn't adjusting well to the new climate at all, he looks even worse then I do. A dark circle of sweat lined his collar, what was normally a prim and proper hair-do slumped down like a sleeping rooster. Even his usual perfect posture was fractured.

In spite of my lingering resentment, I can't help but feel awful about his current state. I keep thinking about the situation I've put him in, and I'm starting to realize this is more draining than he's letting on. Leaving everything he ever knew to come with me couldn't have been easy for him.

I'm still mad at him for being an idiot. But I'm not going to pretend like I hate him. I'll save that for when I see Inigo's stupid face again. Hopefully he'll be in good enough shape that I can wring his neck without feeling too bad about it after.

I nod, fold the map back up and hand it over to him before I slip between the canvas folds behind us. I'll speak to him once we finally found a village or town to rest in. Right now I can't risk another argument breaking out. Not with Valm apparently being hostile territory again. We still hadn't found out what the cause of this little mess was. Walhart's supposed to be dead and gone, anyway.

Going inside, the smell of the wagon hits me all at once. 'Smell' is being kind, with the heat outside it more resembles a stench. Even taking a single breath burns my throat enough to make me consider going out and just walking alongside the wagon. But if I did that, then I'd have to deal with the sun again… crap.

Caeldori hadn't, in fact, gone to sleep. Instead she's sitting in the center of the frame, a piece of parchment and a quill in hand as she keeps going from container to container. After each one she would scribble something down, then move to the next one, then the next one, then the next one…

...She can't have not heard me come in.

"Enjoying yourself, dear?" I mutter rather vindictively, sitting myself down at the front end and crossing my legs.

That was enough to break Caeldori's reverie, the young girl finally turns to face me. At least she's handling the change better than her father. For the most part she looks exactly the same, excluding a few bruises that she had earned a few days back. The memory of her clobbering that Valmese soldier was still fresh in my mind. Pride and worry bounced along in my heart at the thought.

"Mother! I apologize, I was…" She gestured to the stock that surrounded us, letting the setting speak in her place as she laughed rather nervously. Caeldori's temperament is… off. She usually wasn't this reserved around anyone, let alone me. "A-anyway." She continues. "Is there something you need. Does Father need more water?"

"If he does, he won't say anything until he nearly passes out." I jab, wincing a bit as I realized how edged my tone was. She noticed as well, her nervous smile falling into a soft and concerned frown. Great job, Severa. Five seconds in and you're driving this talk into the ground.

Still, I may as well try and salvage this. "Is everything alright?" I ask, switching the subject as best as I can. "You've been walking on eggshells ever since we got moving. If you're sick, I can try and use a stave."

She shakes her head quickly, setting both of her hands on her lap. "No, I'm fine. Just… tired."

"Tired." I repeat in disbelief. "You've spent the past few days back here. Either sleeping or writing. _Sometimes_ you poke your head outside to see where we're going." The poor girl's face shot up a deep red, her crimson eyes darting downwards. Even when embarrassed, she emulates her Grandmother perfectly.

"Caeldori…" I shimmy myself over, placing a cautious hand on her arm and squeezing it. "Look, I know that this is all… 'sudden'." She starts to tense up under my touch. OK, I'm getting close. "But I want to be here for you. So please, just tell me what's on your mind?"

A few beats of silence weigh down on us both. She remains still a bit longer, before she brings her head back up with her usual smile. Once again she shakes her head, and I can feel my heart fall in my chest. "I'm fine, Mother. Please, don't worry." Is all she says. All I _heard_ was 'Please, don't press this.'

With a resigned sigh, I comply, pulling my hand back and returning the smile. "Alright, alright. But I'm still going to give you a once over with the stave." As she opened her mouth to protest, I lift my hand up and shoot her a glare. "This isn't a debate, Caeldori. Lay down, I'll dig it out."

This time she's the one sighing, grumbling something under her breath before complying. I guess this is what being a parent is like. She won't tell me anything, she won't let me help, she cuts herself off. It's like I'm living on repeat of how I acted when I ran into Mother again.

OK, no. She isn't nearly as cold as I was when I ran into Mother again.

I grab the healing stave and take hold of it, two hands grasping it near the center. With a careful breath, my eyes shut as I focus as best as I can on the blueish orb that rests atop the long metal handle. After a few moments, I can feel the light shine onto my nose and cheeks. Using these things always feels fuzzy. As if the stave is channelling part of me out into the world. My body feels warm and light, but also dense and solid.

"You always were better with magic than us." I could hear Caeldori muse beneath me, both of us giggling lightly at the thought. "Father never had any luck with healing, and I'm still only a beginner with staves and rods. But you're a natural at this."

"It's harder than it looks." I admit, biting my tongue before I start bragging. Was it really a reflex for me now? "Your entire body feels condensed, but somehow floaty…" I explain, popping one of my eyes open to look down upon my 'patient.' The few scrapes she had seemed to disappear, much to my relief. My eye closes once more, the light from the stave slowly fading away with an exhale.

"We can practice if you want." I added with a smirk, opening my eyes back up. "Practice makes perfect, nobody's born knowing everything, yak yak yak, Motherly wisdom."

"Just like Grandfather practiced with you, right?" The younger redhead asks, sitting herself back up and positioning herself back across from me once more. "You never really speak about him. You've told me all about Grandmother but… what was he like?"

And just like that, I feel my heart sink back into my chest. Whatever warm feeling from the stave that hovered inside of me disappeared in that instant.

I avoid this topic for my own sake. Trying to discuss my father is like pulling out an arrow stuck in my shoulder. The shaft is barbed, even touching the thing is painful, let alone yanking down on it. It's bad enough that he died in my old timeline, not many people had the 'privilege' of losing their father twice.

"He was a good man." I begin, trying to muster out as much as I could. "There was more than just magic he taught me. We used to spar together, it's how I learned how to fight with a sword." Another breath. "Everytime I had a problem, he would sit down and listen to me. Even when I didn't deserve it, he was… always looking out for me." You can do this, Severa. Just keep going. "...He was my role-model. With everything. Just like how you look up to your father, I looked up to him."

"You miss him a lot. Did he um… pass, before you went to Nohr?" She questioned. I suppose she picked up on how fresh the wound sounded.

All I can do is nod to confirm, before the wagon comes to a quick halt. Both of us look to the front, scuppering forwards before I wave for her to stay behind me. "Gods, Subaki-" I started, poking my head out through the folds. "What's with the hold-up? Is there something in the road?"

"Not something, some _things_." He says, before moving a bit to the side so I could get a view of what exactly laid ahead of us.

A pair of large towers, each one with a few spearmen and some horses resting at the bottom. The body of each structure seemed to climb about twenty feet into the air. They're fairly makeshift, cobbled together out of wooden nails and planks. Barely strong enough to hold themselves up, plus the archer that rested on top of each. Even the breeze seems ready to bring them back down to earth.

As we approach, one of the guardsmen calls out and motions towards us. A few of the soldiers begin to rush toward us, spears in hand. The archers knock arrows into their bows, quickly taking aim.

"Think word got out about our little 'supply raid'?" I jokingly ask, drawing my sword out from its sheath and bringing myself up next to our coach's driver.

"No, dear. I'm sure they're bringing a gift basket. That's what the spears are for." Subaki quips back, grabbing hold of his naginata as Caeldori feeds it to him through the flaps.

"I hate that I'm rubbing off on you." I mutter begrudgingly, much to his visible delight. "So, want to get off here and face them down?"

He shook his head, pointing up towards the archers. "Those are definitely longbows. If we stop now, they'll be able to hit us for sure. Even if we try to turn around."

"Greaaaat…" I complain. My mind rushes back to the tactics lessons that Morgan had tried to sit me through. Staying put isn't an option, it would just mean we would need to dodge arrows and spears at the same time. We could try to just rush past but… they could catch us easily on horseback with the wagon slowing us down.

Then the idea pops into my head. A bit of a crazy plan, sure, but plans were only crazy if they didn't work. Our horses are large and strong. Their weight paired with the wagon would be am extremely heavy force force. Anything short of an solid steel wall would probably collapse from a direct hit.

"You trust me?" I ask, glancing over to my companion.

He shoots me his usual perfect smile. "Of course, dear." He chirps. Poor boy doesn't even know what I have in mind yet. So _perfectly naive_ of him.

"Great." I said, matching the smile. "Ram the inside of the right tower."

"What?!" His voice almost cracked with that one.

"Ram. The. Tower." I repeat, word by word. I keep up my grin, resisting the urge to laugh as his friendly facade falls apart. "Oh, and make sure you and Caeldori jump out in time." With that final instruction, I prepare myself to jump out of the wagon. Gods, this is too much fun.

"I take it you're going to distract the infantry, then?" Subaki asks in frustration, finally lifting the reins up and spurning the horses forward.

"Now you're using that famous Hoshidan head of yours!" I confirm before jumping out of the wagon and landing onto the road. As Subaki careens off towards his new target, the two spearmen that were advancing on us to intercept dive out of the way. He zooms past, both of them dragging themselves back up to their feet as if they dodged a cannon-ball.

As I size the two up, I'm even more confident that this is going to be an easy fight. Both of them are men, taller than me and better armored. But that also means they're slower, and judging from their stances they don't have much actual combat experience. They're practically huddling against each other. Standard defensive posture, clearly trying to cover an attack from the front or the sides. But they're acting like I'm a charging horse, not a single swordswoman. And I'm not going to throw myself on their spears.

"Alright, losers. How's this gonna go?" I ask with a twirl of my blade. Rushing them wasn't an option, I doubted that I could goad them out of breaking formation. The wagon crashing into the tower would probably be enough to draw their attention. But until then I had to keep them focused on me. "I still don't know what you guys' problems are. Do soldiers around here make a habit of attacking random people?"

Both of them start to advance slowly, spears still aimed towards me. I stopped in my tracks, staying out of their thrusting distance for the time being. "No answer? What, are you two too daft to understand what I'm saying?" I continue on, resting the blade of my sword on my shoulder and my hand on my hip. "Seriously. Do _either_ of you speak at all? Helloooooooooooooooo."

Off in the distance, I can see Caeldori jump from the rear of the wagon. Both of the archers had already begun launching arrows downwards, making the canvas that wrapped the frame above her resemble a pincushion. She gets up and darts for the tree-line, ducking under a pair of arrows before making it to safety.

Then, it happens. All at once, the horses and carriage ram into the side of the right tower. Wood chunks fly left and right, trailing off behind the wagon as it tips over and falls onto its side. Subaki himself then scampers out and away, naginata at the ready as he clears the splash-zone of the tilted tower.

It tips slowly over, the archer on top making a desperate leap out of its nest before it careens into its twin. Wood splinters, the second archer doesn't even try to jump for it as he's forced along for the ride back down to the ground. A deafening crack fills the air, startling the horses that surrounded the makeshift outpost. If they weren't tied to a tree, they likely would have run off.

I decide to press my attack, lunging forwards at the pair of enemies before me. Both were rather startled at the sudden cacophony of sound. One even turned his head about to try and catch what had even happened outside his view, dropping his guard somewhat.

His friend tries to stop my sword from going into his chest. A bad attempt to parry my strike as came forth. Unfortunately for him, by the time his spear even made contact, half of my blade had stabbed through my target. It was enough to make me lose my own grip, however. Ontop of that, the little twerp smacks me in the gut with his spear's shaft, causing me to stumble backwards myself.

Suddenly, I'm on the defensive now. He keeps pressing his advantage, trying to land another hit on me. He thrusts, I dodge. He thrusts, I dodge. Another thrust, I block it with my shield. Again I end up losing my footing like an idiot. This time it's even worse, I land on my back entirely like a beached whale.

Crap, crap, crap. This isn't good. Peddle back, draw your dagger, try to keep your distance. He's getting closer now, and he doesn't look happy. Watch the tip of the spear, wait for him to strike roll out of the way. Just like how Mother showed me. Wait for it, wait for it…

 _ **SHUNK**_

What was that. Did he stab me? I don't feel stabbed.

I look up, still holding my back-up blade close as I watch the second soldier fall face-first to the ground. A long arrow stuck out of his spine like a horribly misplaced tail. Off in the distance, Subaki stood with a bow, letting it fall to the ground as he ran over to help me.

...Great, now I don't have an excuse.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Holy cow, almost 250 reads in only two days. I'm glad people seem interested in this! I'm planning on making one update a week at the minimum, so I hope you all enjoy the story I'm going to be writing out for you all.**_


	3. C-2: Inns and Outs

Nightfall came soon after the battle, and with it the cold took the place of the blazing heat. The fiery gaze of the sun was replaced by the frigid watch of the moon, with the trees swaying too and fro. The carcass of both towers lay dormant, one breaking clearly into the treeline while the other blocked access through the road entirely. The wagon was useless now, the spokes clearly broken in half. One of the horses broke both of its front legs but… a little stave-work fixed that up.

We ended up leaving the carnage behind about as quickly has we had caused it, taking a few of the horses and loading them with some supplies before riding off into the distance. Leaving a trail of destruction like this was going to start haunting us. If they didn't have people trying to capture us before, once that outpost was discovered they would be scouring the entire region. Especially after we… _I_ ended up getting some of the men killed.

It still feels so weird. Growing up, I was always surrounded by violence. Risen everywhere, innocent people getting cut to pieces. Entire towns disappearing overnight. Fight in the day, sleep in the afternoon, fight even more at night. Kill, kill, kill. Kill them before they killed you. But that was Risen, killing them was easy. Killing people…

It was a battle. I didn't hesitate, I knew I did the right thing. But it didn't make me feel any better about it afterwards. During the ride away from the scene, I spent the entire time quiet as a mouse. It was probably best that I didn't bother my family more than I already had to begin with.

Now we've reached a small village a ways down the road. At the town square, there's a small Inn with a light outside. We quickly tie up the horses, find our way inside, and rent a pair of rooms for the night. Caeldori insisted that she be given her own space, being a 'grown lady capable of handling herself.'

It's already deep into the night as I sit myself down in our room and begin to undress myself. Sword off, shield off, armor off. Stripping myself down to my small-clothes. I'm so exhausted I don't even care about how it looks anymore, all I want to do is melt away into this chair and forget the day's events. This always happens every night after a battle. My nerves just disappear, my brave mask slips off to show my actual fear.

This is all going so wrong. We're being hunted down by Gods knows how many soldiers. The first few days we've spent back home have been nothing but constant fighting, fleeing and fatigue. When I asked the Innkeeper what the date was, I found out that it had been five whole years since we had all left on Anakos' mission.

Five years of my life, gone. I hadn't told anyone back home where I was going. Lucina, Cynthia, Noire, they all probably think I'm dead. The rest of the new Shepards probably helped them try to look for me, but I was in a completely other realm.

Mother, oh Gods. First she lost Father, now she thinks she's lost me. What kind of fool am I?

Stupid, selfish, Severa. Never thinking about my actions. Never wondering how what I'll do will affect the others. When I first came back, I ended up making Mother cry. Now I've probably gone and caused her even more pain. Her, all of my friends, everyone I ever cared about. That's not even factoring in the hell I've dragged my new family through as well.

I just sit in my chair, tearing up and silently sobbing. I can feel my entire form just bleed into the chair. I don't want to get up, I just want this all to be over. I just want to be home again, to see everyone safe and sound.

"I thought something was wrong. You were far to quiet on the ride here."

My roommate finally speaks, stepping into the room and making his way over to me. Subaki decided to jump at the chance of using the bath-house once we finally arrived, handing me the key to the room and running off with a rag and brush in hand. Right now he looks just like a wet, poofed up poodle. Towel around his waist, hair down and frizzed up. His clothes were all tossed over his shoulder. If I had it in me, I'd say that he looked absolutely ungentlemanly. But I can't, not now. All I can do is try to wipe my face clean.

That's when I feel something warm wrap around me. It feels safe and familiar to the touch as I'm lifted up and out of my seat. Carried over to the bed and setting me down. As I open my eyes I can sense Subaki sit down next to me, pulling his own small-clothes back on. "I know, I know. I look ungentlemanly and ridiculous. I can't _always_ look perfect in front of you, and I apologize for that."

I laugh. An actual, happy laugh. It's the first time in days I've been able to do that. Sniffling, I bloch my eyes once more, trying to get myself together. "Y-you better." I say, half-heartedly playing along. But even I'm having trouble keeping up my usual persona. "Acting so b-blaze in front of your w-wife. Have you no shame?"

It's his turn to laugh, and once he's done making himself decent, he wraps his hand around mine. Our fingers interlock so easily, it's just reflexive at this point. Sighing, I rest my head on his bare shoulder and close my eyes once more. "I'm so sorry that I did this to both of you."

I can feel him rumble as he chuckles at my words. "What, the wagon? Well, that trick nearly caused me to tear a hole in my pants. But they came out fine. Mostly. I'll need to scrub the dirt out tomorrow. And iron out the wrinkles. Oh, and we should get a sewing kit. You think the market here will have one?"

Sighing, I nod carefully in response to his words. But I can't just let this hang in the air longer than it needs to be. He deserves an apology. For everything. "I made you give up everything for me. Your rank, your country, your _world_. Uprooted you and my only daughter, and dragged you both to a place neither of you understand. A place _I_ don't even understand anymore."

Again I can feel my words choke up in my throat. It's even worse than when I was speaking about Father. He's gone, but now I might lose what I even have left. "I should've came back alone. You two would've been happy in Hoshido."

"You're being ridiculous." I heard him say curtly. All elements of playfulness had been replaced by a softer tone. Pressure wrapped itself around my hand. "I know you're smarter than think that."

"But it's true!" I protest. Crap, I can feel my eyes start prickling again. Keep yourself under control, Severa. Don't turn into a little girl. "Think about it! If you had stayed, you could've had any job you wanted in the Army! You were a royal retainer, one of the best sky knights in the Army. _The_ best sky-knight in the Army! And Caeldori, she'd be safe with all of her friends. Both of you would've had everything you wanted."

A break of silence between our words. I can feel his shoulders rise and lower with each breath. Then I can feel his hand let go of my own. His shoulder moves, he's getting up from the bed. Gods, I hit the nail right on the head. I knew he had doubts, I knew he regretted this. Saying this just made him realize it. Now he'll just try and find a way to go back. If there even is a way to go back.

Then I can feel it, a new sensation on my ring-finger. I open my eyes to see him on a knee, he's clearly holding onto the ring that was on my hand. "You remember when I gave this to you, right? During one of your crazy contests that you put everyone in Lady Corrin's army through."

I nod silently, listening as best as I can as he continued. "I knew what I was getting into then and there. A relationship with a Nohrian soldier. A Nohrian Royal Retainer, no less! It was… not something expected of me."

"I still haven't broken that competitive streak." I commented out of the blue, blinking my eyes clear again.

"But you're still the same woman I fell for then. You're still the same hard-working, self-improving, good-hearted person I fell in love with. You're the same woman I married, the same woman who I have a child with. And I'm still the same man you married."

He starts to stand to his feet, lifting me up with him as my eyes lock onto his. Red eyes, just like Caeldori's. Tired, bruised, battered. But not beaten, not yet. So much energy and tenacity still hidden between them. And something else… hope.

"You and Caeldori are the only two people I don't have to pretend around. I still do, sometimes. So that I can feel worthy of you both. Because I want to be perfect _for_ you both. In Hoshido, I built myself up for myself. But now, I do it for you both." He says, before coming down to softly press his lips against my own.

It's the first time we've even embraced like this since we came to Valm. The entire kiss just feels so warm and comforting. Like a protective shroud wrapping around my person, whispering into my ear that everything is going to be alright. That it'll all end well. My own personal happy-place, the one I can always escape to whenever I don't think I can go on anymore.

When he breaks off the kiss, the warmth fades away all to quickly. I want it back, to stay with me. But I can't be selfish enough to demand that. Not yet.

"I don't deserve either of you." I admit, resting my forehead against his bare chest and smiling. "But I'm glad I have you both either way."

With that last word, we found ourselves settling down for our first real night's sleep back home.

* * *

The next day I found myself wandering through the village market, stopping by the local smith to try and make some repairs to our armament. We barely had any money to spend, but still, I could feel the call of the stalls. Some new clothes would be nice. Or a new shield. Maybe some throwing daggers… No! No, bad Severa! Stop proving Jakob right!

I have to practically sit on my hands to stop them from fidgeting. I really do have a problem. Even when I don't have a proper pay stipend I've just got the urge to buy something. Oooh, like that sundress over there! The reds and the oranges layered together, it looks so light and vibrant. Like you're just wearing a sunset. It can't be that expensive, either. These smaller towns usually sell decent stuff for cheap. And checking the price-tag wouldn't be too b-

Gaaaaah! What is wrong with me!? And what's taking this smith so long! I've been sitting here for the past two hours, maintenance shouldn't take this long! I could do these repairs in my sleep if we had the tools. Ugh...

That's it, I'm finding Caeldori. By the time I come back, they should be ready.

I decide to take the long way around back towards the Inn, if I can't see the market then I can't get the impulse. She should be at the horses' stables, we'll be leaving once the weapons are ready. Subaki's off finding out what he can about the political climate. Running around the continent with no idea about what's going on needs to end sooner or later.

Caeldori was, thankfully, exactly where I expected her to be. Doting on the horses while tying a few packs of gear onto their saddles. Something was different, though.

Her normal Sky-Knight gear had been replaced by a simple brass cuirass, the armor that covered her upper arms was completely missing. It wasn't just that though, her shitagi and hakama were switched out for a new red and blue rider's outfit and a pair of gaiters. She still kept her old sky-knight headband, but…

Before I could even mention it, my daughter already turned around and waved me over. "Hello, Mother." She states nonchalantly, beaming at me with a smile that I hadn't seen since we arrived. "Do you like my new look? It's a bit heavier than what I'm used to, but the armorer said that this was what sky knights wore here."

"Pegasus Knights, dear. We call them Pegasus Knights." I sharply correct, brow furrowing. The resemblance was uncanny, it was honestly freaking me out at this point. She even has the same fashion taste as her, and they haven't even met yet. "How did you even get all of this? Didn't _your_ budget say we only had enough money to get our weapons serviced?"

"Well…" She begun, walking out from it's stall and taking her place at my side. "After you left, I ran into this merchant caravan leaving town. They were having trouble loading their goods, so I offered to help. They decided to give me the chest-piece as a bit of a thank-you gift. The outfit, well… I uh… went into town looking for you and saw this. It looked so nice! So uh… I might've… spent a _little_ bit from our reserve."

I just stand there, rendered speechless for the umpteenth time this week. I had just spent half the day, sitting next to the smithy, near torturing myself trying to not buy anything on impulse, and she went off and did it anyway. I… I'm not even mad. I should be furious, but I can't even be mad. I understand way too much to be mad. It's nice to know we have these little bits in common with each other. It makes me feel… closer to her. Happier.

Still, she can't know that. Not now, at least.

"You know what I'm going to say, right?" I manage out, lifting my hand and pinching the bridge of my nose. Crap, I'm smiling too. Need to cover my mouth.

"I-I'm sorry! I know it was wrong, but I thought it was a good idea!" She begins, stammering out the words as she desperately attempts to explain herself. "When they came after Father and I, it's because they mistook me for someone from Chon'sin, right? So I figured, that if I change my outfit-"

"That they wouldn't be able to tell as easily. Which they wouldn't, if we hadn't left survivors behind to identify us." I said, lifting a hand to cut her off once more. With a deep sigh, I dropped my hand to my hip and turned to look down at the panicking girl. "Next time, ask either your Father or me for permission. Got it?"

She nods quickly, red eyes as wide as saucers. Sure that I've gotten my message across, I go turn around and wave for her to follow me. "Come on, let's go get the weapons. That old moron's _got_ to be done by now."

* * *

Another hour passes, and we've gathered in our room in the Inn one last time before we're setting out. The three of us surround a table, a new map and compass resting atop it. We've already begun to deface it, ink-lines running across different paths as each of us debated which route to take to the harbor. In the end we decided to try and make our way to Rosanne. An old friend of my Mother's had settled down there after the War, a blue haired fop who went on about 'returning to his homeland.' Hopefully, Gerome was there. I'd rather deal with him than his annoyance of a father again.

But that wasn't the interesting part of the discussion, what really caught my interest was the news Subaki had discovered.

"Apparently, a new Emperor's taken seat in Valm Castle." Subaki begun to explain, taking a long sip of tea. "He claims he's the descendant of an old dynasty, someone called the 'Saint-King'."

"Never heard of him." I deadpanned, arms folded across my chest and feet up on the table. "History lessons weren't that much of a focus when I was growing up."

The man sighed, his eyes rolling in displeasure to my blaze attitude towards his information. "He was the first unified ruler of Valm, apparently. Now his 'heir' is claiming a crusade to bring back this old Kingdom. Caeldori, what did you hear the Innkeeper call it?"

"The One Kingdom of Valentia, Father." She answered quickly, her back up straight as she tried to maintain a perfect posture. "He's quite popular with the locals here."

"Not just here." Subaki continued, leaning over and drawing a line across the lower portion of the map. "If what I've heard is true, his goals have the sympathies of people across the continent."

I snorted, shaking my head at such a silly idea. "Not possible. The last time a Valmese monarch tried to 'unify' this place, there was a full-blown rebellion."

He lifted his head, eyeing me curiously. "Really? How do you know that."

"I fought in the War." I answered bluntly. "I was in the throne-room of Valm Castle when the Empress of Chon'sin and my Exalt **sliced his head off**." My voice caught volume near the end, putting emphasis on my final point. "Before that we went from place to place, clearing out his soldiers. The townsfolk were glad they were gone."

"But he had an army, Mother." Caeldori countered. "It seemed to be extremely sizeable. Not the size one can muster and sustain from conscription alone. People must have believed in him to some degree."

Grumbling under my breath, I nod to myself. The idea of another psychopath taking Walhart's place didn't ease my mind at all. But she had a point about his Army. They weren't just loyal, they were _fanatics._ Even as we stormed the castle, his guard held his ground to their last breath. Gods… if someone else came to power with that kind of strength…

"We need to get out of here before this whole continent catches fire again." I affirm, drumming a few fingers across my forearm. "We get to Roseanne, resupply, and then we ride like hell for the harbor. Board the first ship headed for Ylisse. From here on out, we avoid fighting. That means we need to avoid looking like anyone hostile to this kingdom."

I cast a gaze over to Caeldori. "Once we're done here, take your father to the armorsmith. Get him a set of leather armor. Then I want you to both take your old clothes and _burn them._ Don't leave any trace that we were here."

Subaki nodded in agreement with my words, finishing his cup of tea and standing to his feet. He was already making his way for the door, stepping outside and moving down the hallway.

As I heard his footsteps drift off into nonexistence, my gaze hardened on Caeldori. When I mentioned burning her clothing, she once again looked at me anxiously. "M-mother. Let's not be hasty now." She begins, stuttering again. This time her tone was different than the stables, however. It reminded me of how she was acting before the fight at the wooden outpost. Tired, fearful, upset at… something. "We can just h-hide our clothes in our bags. There's no need to d-destroy them."

I shake my head. "If we're searched, and they find your old clothes, they'll try to arrest you in a heartbeat. We're not taking that risk. From here on out we need to look like Ylisseans on our way home."

"B-but our weapons will be a dead give-away regardless! They don't appear to have any naginatas in this part of the kingdom! Not native, at the very least!" She continues to protest, voice becoming rather shrill to my eyes. Her hands have started to ball up into small fists in her lap, legs shaking.

I can't deny that she has a point. Even with new clothes, exotic weapons will be a dead giveaway. "Sell them to the local armorsmith, get some spears and a bow for your father. They're good quality weapons, you should be able to get more than enough gold to cover for the replacement purchase."

"That wasn't the po-" She starts, before I rise to my feet and glare down at her.

"Do I sound like I'm leaving this up to debate, Caeldori? Does this sound in any way, shape or form negotiable?" Keeping my voice level, feet planted on the wood below me. I can't afford to have her act disobedient now of all times, not when her life is on the line. "Go do as I told you, and get back here before noontime. We've dawdled enough as it is."

With that, I point towards the door. My eyes continuing to bore down into her as she stares up at me. My daughter, the most important thing to me in the world. She's staring up at me as if I had just run her through with my blade. Mouth agape, eyes wide. Unable to react, unsure how to react.

"I said, **go.** " I repeat once more, raising my voice to a near yell.

This time she doesn't stare. All Caeldori can do is get up to her feet and rush off in retreat. As she moves down the hall, I can hear the beginning of a sob echo down back to me. Could've handled that better, should've handled it better. But what matters is that she's doing it. She can hate me all she wants after we survive this. Just like I hated mine.

She really is turning out to be her mother's daughter.

* * *

 _ **A/N: I think I'm finally starting to really hit my stride with this series. Haven't quite burned myself out yet though, so expect a few more updates in the coming days before the weekly update template begins.**_

 _ **Also, 14 followers and almost 400 unique readers! Just as the main Arc for this Book's about to begin too, woo!**_


	4. C-3: War and Peace

The next day we wander into another center of civilization. A proper town by the name of Nellis, twice the size of the village that we had stayed in the night before. Twice as populace as well, trying to ride through the crowded streets was almost as difficult as making a path through Ylisstol during market hours. The populace seemed rather prosperous and content, the buildings and stations scattered across the roadway well kept.

Everywhere we looked we would see the same foreboding banners. Waving across flagpoles, draped down buildings. A golden dragon emblazoned in front of a green backdrop. Alongside them, squadrons of spearmen marched down the streets in clear formation. Each of them toting a battle standard with the gold and green dragon. The locals showered them with praise, well wishes and gifts. They were preparing for something, probably some kind of offensive.

"Perhaps we should continue past here." Subaki commented as he rode in tandem with me, our horses trotting along in near perfect sync. "There's bound to be another town or village that we can rest in. I wouldn't mind another night in the stars."

His new outfit suited him rather nicely. A hardened leather chestpiece and shoulderpads covering a simple smock underneath. A new longbow rested slung across his back, along with a quiver full of arrows. He had kept his Hoshidan hakama and kutsu against my protests, along with his pike. It was an act of defiance that even inspired Caeldori to fasten her Hoshidan spaulders to her new set of Knight armor. I had already blown my top at both of them on the road, but Subaki had stood his ground. Stating bluntly that he didn't want to abandon all pretense of home.

Caeldori clearly shared his point of view, but she also refused to come near me during this entire leg of the trip. For now she was riding behind us, her eyes boring a hole into the back of my head from a distance.

"No. No more bugs, no more hunting." I refused, eyeing another group of 'Valentian' soldiers as they marched on past us. "I want a real meal and a real bed. I'm not like Niles or Hinata, I can't spend days on end sleeping like an animal."

"If either of them were here to hear that, I think they'd be rather hurt." He answered, smirking from the corner of his mouth as he also continued his surveillance.

"Hinata would just go pout in a corner for half an hour, then forget about it." I wave a hand dismissively in his direction. "Niles wouldn't have the right to complain anyway, not with how he of all people acts."

"You and I both know he would complain anyway."

"...Good point." I concede, blowing some air from my nose as we round a corner into the next street. "Either way, we're only half a day's ride from the border with Roseanne. We might as well relax a night before we finally get out of the woods."

"Hrm." The man stroked his chin, contemplating something as some children dodged in between our horses. One of them almost ran into my sword, the numbskulls. "Well. We do have the money for some beds and a decent meal. Even accounting for Caeldori's desire for separate accommodations."

I grumbled in acknowledgement to his statement, my mind doing the mental math. Well, trying to do the math. Biting down on the side of my cheek, I keep running through the last conversation I had with the girl. Trying to be heavy handed with her backfired horribly, it turned out she could be every bit as spiteful as I could when I was her age. But… ugh. Damn it, why was this so hard!? I try to be kind, she weasels away from me. I put my foot down, she pushes against me just as hard. She doesn't seem to react well with anything I do with her at all. And it's getting so damn frustrating…

"How long do you think it'll be until she'll speak to me again?" I call, checking behind us from the corner of my eye. Yep, still glaring at me.

Once again he strokes his chin, though this time an amused grin had taken hold of his face. "I'd say tomorrow morning. Whatever you told her set her off. She reminded me of when Peri beat you in that cooking contest."

I quickly raised up a hand. "Don't even start with that. She had to have been cheating. No way that maniac could cook that well. Where _did_ she even learn that?"

"Anywhere, I suppose. Where did you learn to cook?"

"I was the only person in our camp who didn't burn everything they touched." I answer with a droll tone. It was sad how true that statement was, back before we had crossed over to our parents' time basically every person in the camp was incapable of preparing a half-decent meal. Laurent and I were forced to learn out of pure desperation.

The former sky knight chortles at my simple explanation. "Regardless. Give her time. She doesn't hate you, Selena. She's merely upset. Last I checked you didn't have the perfect relationship with your mother either."

"Why in the world do you think I'm trying so hard? It took me _traveling time_ to be able to salvage my relationship with her. I'm trying to make sure she doesn't end up in a similar situation."

Gods know I had enough regrets with my own relationship, the last thing I need is to put her through the same mess.

* * *

As the sun begun to crest below the horizon, I made my way to the town square once more. A large gathering of people was assembling in front of a stage, even more Valentian banners fluttering above the crowd. Families and loners intermingled alike, cheering proudly as a group of soldiers took their positions at the front of the stage. It was like a wave of people, cheering and chanting as their beloved heroes formed up in front of them.

"Still say it's impossible, Mother?" Caeldori comments in a dry tone, arms folded over her chest as she glared forwards at the stage. Against her wishes, I had dragged her along with me. Going to this assembly on my own didn't seem like it was the smartest play.

"I don't know, Caeldori. Are you _really_ glad I'm wrong?" I question, hands on my hips as a man nudges into me walking past.

"Your being wrong isn't much of a surprise." She answers, cool and level. My eyebrow twitches slightly in frustration, trying to resist the urge to grab her arm and drag her back to the Inn. Disobedient, snide little runt… I'm starting to get really fed-up with her passive-aggressive nonsense. Upset or not, I deserve at least a bit of respect. Especially when all I do is look out for her well-being.

Regaining my posture, we continue to stare forwards as another squadron of soldiers moves past. "All of this because I said we should keep a low profile? Or is that problem you're hiding from me finally rearing its head?"

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about, Mother."

I sigh, shaking my head in disappointment. "Just… fine. Hate me if you want. See if I care."

That stemmed a small reaction from her, her eyes quickly shifting to look at me before shooting back towards the stagefront once more.

"I didn't want to come with you and Father." Caeldori finally admitted in a small voice, tone cracking sharply as she finished her sentence. Her entire posture relaxed at once, shoulders drooping, as if the largest burden in the world was finally lifted off of her shoulders. Her entire form just seemed to lighten up, back straightening and eyes lighting up. "I wanted to stay, with both of you."

Those words all rush into me as if they were a freight-train. Every muscle in my body tenses up at once, spine going rigid and hairs standing up along my head. I was right with my fears, but I had them pegged on the wrong person. I finally turn my body, facing the younger redhead. "Why didn't you say something?" I demanded, arms hanging limply by my side. "Out of all the things you could have hid from me, Caeldori, why hide something this important!?"

"Would it really have mattered?" She countered, voice still cracking as her demeanor grew more and more somber. "You were hell-bent on coming back here, Mother. Do you truly think anything I said would have stopped you?"

"Th-that isn't the point!" I stammer out, face going tomato red. Would I have even listened to her if she had confronted me? Or was she merely delaying an inevitable clash? "Damn it, do you really think I'm cruel enough to not even listen to my own child!?"

"No, I don't. You're a good person, Mother. You're kind to people even though you don't like to show it, and you'd never try to hurt anyone unless you were forced." She explained, her fists starting to clench as she forced her words out. "But you're also extremely, _extremely_ selfish. When you want something badly, you often stop at nothing to get it. How should I have known that I would be the exception if I told you my qualms?"

I take in a deep breath, trying to come up with some kind of answer. I want to tell her she's wrong. Of course I would have conceded to her if she had just told her something. I could never force her to come with us. The guilt would tear me apart, knowing I had forced her to abandon her home without a say in the matter. It's what any parent should say, how any parent would should _feel._

But I can't. Because I know in my gut that she's right. If she had told me, I would've left regardless. If Subaki had refused, I would have left regardless. I hate it, but it's the undeniable truth. I would have abandoned my daughter.

And that truth burns me alive from the inside out.

She raises an arm to point ahead of us, finger aimed at a mother and daughter. The young girl sitting in her mother's arms with an apple and a smile. Both look so happy together, enjoying every moment they share. "When I was in the Deeprealms, I… _dreamed_ of the day I would finally be able to have those moments with you. Not just sporadic visits and talks that lasted a few hours, but to actually be a family. Waking up knowing I would see you and Father. Not fearing that you would never come back for me."

Her arm drops, and my heart continues to crawl up into my throat. "I wish I never had to leave Hoshido to have that chance. But I knew if I stayed, I'd lose it forever. I had to choose, and I choose you."

Inhaling carefully to steady my breath, I keep my view on the other pair. They both looked so… idyllic together. Something we truly never had a chance to have. With the War happening, she was forced into a world of violence. Just like I was when Father and Mother died. I barely have the right to call myself her mother, I haven't raised her at all. "...I've failed you. I really have failed you."

"No. You haven't." Caeldori quickly corrects, firm and assured. "You weren't from our world, and I doubt you expected to even have me. I know I'm a victim of circumstance. Not malice." She cracks a small, soft smile. "Like I said mother, you're kinder then you let yourself believe. I know you care for me dearly." She chuckles at the end, her smile growing evermore. "Even if you're not the best at showing it."

"Regardless. I promise you that I'll make sure you're happy here." I state with absolution. Yeah… I'll make sure she's happy here. No matter what I have to do, I'll make her choice worth-while.

" **Attention, all!"** A voice booms from the front, the town crier yelling out to those in the front. **"General Maddox will now begin his address!"**

With that, we both face forwards. We've been standing here this long, no reason to not miss the show we came for.

* * *

A tall, well armored man stood center stage. Armed with a long pike, his white beard contrasting against his blackened skin. Each of his eyes were like white pearls against a coal backdrop. His armor clearly signified his rank, large and thick with green and gold painted across in intricate tree-like patterns. Maddox looked like a proud man, one who didn't seem ready to let his age stop him from continuing as planned.

 **"Citizens of Nellis!"** He called out in a booming voice, lifting a hand to calm the crowd in front of him. **"Proud people of Valm! You honor my men and I with your loyalty and support! We, who are about to march, salute you all!"**

A deafening torrent of cheers answered the man. Every man, woman and child around us applauding and crying out. There must be at least two-hundred people here. Maybe even more watching from the buildings surrounding us. As some semblance of silence returned, the man continued. **"Today marks a grand day in our Kingdom's history! For years now, the Dynasts have chosen to abuse their power! We had overthrown one abusive conqueror, only for him to be replaced by lazy and selfish pedants! Nobles who care only for the filling of their stomachs, the lining of their pockets! Not you! Not your families! Not their people! But I say no more, WE SAY NO MORE!"**

Another set of cheers, another pause before continuing. **"For the good of Valm! Nay, for the good of Valentia! We must reunite! We must cast off the shackles of the Dynasts, and bring back the ways of true unification! King Albien has promised us this! And together, we will make this a reality!"**

As the crowd once again lost itself to it's cheering and madness, Caeldori mutters something as quietly as she could to me. "Say what you will, he certainly knows how to play a crowd."

I nod in agreement, brow furrowing as I try to make heads or tails of this situation. To be honest, I can't say I'm very surprised. Queen Say'ri often said that the older rulers before Walhart were self-serving. The fact that they fell back on old habits didn't exactly surprise me. "What's your take. You think he's believing what he's saying?" I ask.

"Either that, or he's a far better actor than either of us." She replies, tutting. "Regardless if he speaks the truth or not, the people certainly believe him."

" **In three weeks time, we mark a new chronicle in Valentian history!"** The man continued. **"The old rulers have been given their warning! They could have joined our glorious crusade! To make Valentia whole with a dove and an olive branch! But they refuse! Desperately clinging to power like the rats they are! 'Duke' Viron of Roseanne! 'Count' Mathias of Brisbonne! 'Baroness' Sheva of Shurima!** _ **'Queen'**_ **Say'ri of Chon'sin! They choose to stand against our mighty cause!"**

Boos and jeers took the place of cheering this time, the crowd throwing ugly slurs and threats at the mention of the various dynasts. Accusations of treason and heresy. Rage and anger that only a mob could generate. "This is going to get rather ugly." Caeldori noted, lifting a hand to tug at my sleeve. "Maybe we should leave."

I shake my head almost immediately. "No, no. Let's find out everything we can."

" **But it matters not! Our cause is just, and our Army prepared! We shall march north, and liberate Valentia! Town by town, city by city! We will not rest until OUR PEOPLE ARE FREE!"** Again, cheers take hold of the crowd, but this time the man lifts his hand to calm them down preemptively.

" **But our task does not end with Valentia, brothers and sisters."** He continued, his booming voice becoming dark and gravely. Dread seemed to fill the air as he spoke. Like a Priest addressing the crowd of a funeral. **"By Naga's will, our mission continues across the sea."**

I can feel myself pale as he utters the words. Across the sea!? Are they really, REALLY going to try and take over my home again!?

" **We all know what occured in Plegia, over five years ago from this day."** The General went on, the air deathly silent. **"The Fell Dragon returned, and with him a plague of misery and death. Risen, unholy creatures of reanimation came to our world to do his evil. Even here, in Valm, how many of our people suffered? How much did we lose? And so soon after the fall of Walhart as well! What was supposed to be a time of healing devolved into a period of chaos! And answer me, brothers and sisters! Who is to blame for our folly!?"**

" **The Grimeal!"** The crowd shouted back in one, unified voice. Echoes of a uniform suffering emanating from their very words. Lovers holding themselves close. Parents shielding their children. Old men and women muttering old prayers to Divine Dragons. The entire tone of the rally changed, it's terrifying. Even Caeldori's gone completely pale, her natural empathy soaking in all the emotion around her.

" **The Grimeal! Those villainous servants to the Fell Dragon! Traitors to our species! Traitors to our world!"** Maddox shouted out, his previous joy and uplifting spirit replaced with a deep and fervent hatred. **"They dared to bring us the apocalypse for their demented God! Heresy against both Naga and her Voice! These dastards wished to end everything we hold near and dear! I say this, will we let them get away with such an unforgivable crime!?"**

" **NO!"** The crowd screeched back, the tension bordering that of a revolt in the making.

" **No! We will not! We will purge these heretics from the face of the earth ONCE AND FOR ALL!"** Again the gathering erupted into applause and chants, but this time the man didn't stop. **"We will cross the sea and march to Plegia! We will cull any and all of Grima's remaining faithful, and CLEANSE THIS WORLD OF THEIR HERETICAL FILTH!"** The onlookers somehow continued to increase in volume, their words driving them into a frenzy. **"And not just them! We will find the spawn of Grima, these 'Fellblood'! The unholy children of the Fell Dragon's vessel! We will ensure this travesty will never, EVER OCCUR ONCE MORE! FOR THE GLORY OF THE KING! FOR THE GLORY OF VALENTIA!"**

No. No, no, no no no no no no.

This can't be happening. This CAN'T be happening!

Not after all we fought for. Not after finally killing Grima once and for all! Not after everything we had to sacrifice. Just to suffer another damn invasion!? Why!? Why in the world can't people just let things lie! Why is it that even after we finally WIN, we find these new stupid reasons to just ruin everything we gain!

"-ther. -other. Mother!" I finally hear, feeling myself being dragged along through the crowd as my gaze remains fixed on the enigmatic General as he waves and cheers alongside the crowd. Caeldori finally decided to remove us from the scene, and I struggle to find the words to thank her. This can't be happening. Not again, not again…

Father, please. Your death was supposed to make this all end.

* * *

 _ **A/N: At last we dive into the main story arc for this tale. I'm excited to write this out, being a major fan of both Awakening and Shadows of Valentia. Mixing the lore of both stories into a cohesive narrative is going to be tricky, but I think I'm up to the task. We've also reached 20 followers and over 1000 views, along with almost 600 unique readers! So again, thanks to everyone who's taken a gander at my little spin of the yarn.**_

 ** _But anyway, I figured now's the time to answer some questions I've read in a few reviews! Thanks to everyone who's written responses, I'm always happy to read feedback so I can improve and get to know my readers. So, without any further ado:_**

 ** _Haro654: I won't be saying anything that will spoil the series, but I will say that I've laced a few hints into the story about who Severa's father is. I plan to reveal it very soon._**

 ** _H. Uzamaki: Thank you for the praise! I've always believed that the characters make a story come alive, so my main goal is to first and foremost make the cast as human and dynamic as possible. Good to see that I've been doing somewhat well on that front!_**

 _ **Geno Bezerk: Again, I won't say anything that will spoil the series. However I will lay this out ahead of time, Ingio and Owain will be given their own 'Books' chronicling their adventures during their return. That means that, however, they will not be appearing in Book One. Don't worry though, I've got this somewhat planned out in my head.**_

 _ **linkkirby8692: Ah, that's the secret isn't it? I may reveal who the others had married at a later point in this book. However I'd like to establish that I do, in fact, have all the families in mind. Each of the returning Awakening characters has a defined spouse as of this moment.**_

 ** _Thanks for reading, everyone! I hope you all continue to enjoy this series_**


	5. C-4: The Interview

There's plenty of ways a girl would love to spend her time with her family.

Resting at home, eating a nice meal, going off on a vacation. Maybe even visiting those hot-springs again. It was amazing to have such a beautiful, warm place nestled atop a frozen mountain peak. Everyone seemed to enjoy themselves endlessly when we were there. Even Lucina let her hair down and acted like a normal girl for once. I still remember the conversation we had, talking about how… testy I had gotten. It was nice to be surrounded by friends and family, just having a blast.

Or maybe that time we all went to that beach. An entire day just resting in the sun, swimming in the ocean and chowing down on decent food. So calm and relaxing, and such a nice view... oh Gods, now I'm thinking of Subaki in a swimsuit. Hair down and flowing, abs soaked by the sea. 'Why yes, dear, I'd love to take a break in the hammock...' Gah! No! No, day dreaming! Bad, bad!... wait, why is that bad? I'm married to the man, I basically own his abs anyway!

Ugh... that'd be so nice.

Well, at least I'm still surrounded by family. Trying to sneak out of a town full of Naga loving zealots, though. _Not_ high on my list of things I wanted to do before I ate it. It's people like this that I never went to church that often as a kid. That, and Grima burning down basically all of the churches.

After that insane war-rally, we all decided that we needed to plan how we were going to get to Roseanne. Soldiers were stationed all over the town, clearly on the watch for spies and scouts. Anyone going north was either stopped or checked for papers. Even trading caravans were turned around and refused permission to return to their point of origin. The Army here was turning the region into a proper staging ground.

Once again sitting around a round-table in our room, we had a large swath of papers laid out in front of us. Propaganda and recruiting posters for this new 'One Kingdom.' Subaki's reconnaissance of how many troops he thought were currently stationed in the area. A logbook of rumors we had overheard while listening in on the townsfolk. We had purchased yet another map, marking the checkpoints and patrol patterns as we saw them.

"This is hopeless!" I groaned out, slouching back into my chair and throwing my hands up in exasperation. Hours of combing through all of our notes, and I can't think of a single way through the blockade. "They have eyes everywhere! And probably even more patrols we don't even know about!"

"An impressive layout to say the least." Subaki muses, drawing yet another set of lines on the map to mark another patrol route. "Each of these sections seems set up to intersect with one another. Clear lines of view intersecting with each sentry post. If one patrol doesn't meet another rotation on their path, they know something is wrong. Plus with the distance between the stationary sentries, they could raise an alarm in less than a minute."

"Taking out the guards quietly isn't an option." Caeldori mutters in annoyed agreement, flipping through her book of notes as she tried to make heads and tails of the whole situation. Even her brilliant mind seemed to be unable to parse a clear solution from this mess we're stuck in. "We could try breaking through one of the weaker checkpoints. But…" Before she even finishes, she shakes her head and lets the sentence trail off into nothingness.

She didn't even need to explain why that wouldn't end well. I could already imagine having to dodge volleys of flaming arrows while riding off. We'd be dead before we even made it half-way to the treeline.

"We could try and head south." I pondered, dragging a hand across my face as I tried to rouse myself up into a more alert state. "Find the old Zofian Harbor, charter a boat there." Again, I groan in frustration as I pick apart my own idea. If we tried that, it would be another few weeks of travel all the way down to the southern edge of the whole damn continent. We barely had enough coin to pay for the room in this in, a longer journey and we'd either starve or end up having to raid more caravans. I've done plenty of questionable stuff in my life, but turning brigand wasn't a line I was keen to cross.

"Regardless, we need to warn this Duke of what's coming." Subaki counters, setting his quill down and capping the ink-bottle. The red haired man lifts his hands up, undoing the binding for his hair and letting it fall loose as he tries to readjust it. I really need to give the man a haircut, he's starting to look like a wild bear. "He may be unaware of these happenings."

"I agree with Father. It would be rather poor form to leave him to the mercy of such a… 'motivated' foe." Caeldori follows up, head bobbing in agreement. Still, her nose was stuck in her notes as she continues to try and discover some kind of plan.

My brow furrows as I looked over the two, snark acting before my brain does. "You're kidding me, right? You want to risk your necks for that blue-haired sleazeball?"

"He's the father of your friend, is he not?" Subaki replies, holding his hair back up and preparing to retie the knot. "I would suppose that would be reason enough to assist him."

Once more, our daughter nods, closing her notebook and resting it in her lap. Again with that perfect posture, how does she do that? Keeping her back that straight all the time seems almost inhuman. Meanwhile I'm laying over like some kind of slob on the table. Pull your legs up and sit up straight yourself, you weirdo. "And even if he wasn't, leaving him to fend for himself would be shameful. He was one of Grandmother's companions, yes?"

"If by 'companion' you mean he wanted to bed her, then yes." I clarify in an unamused, annoyed voice. My eyes rolled out of reflex as I thought back to what I knew about the infamous archer. Viron was a lot of things. Shameless flirt, capable liar, a storybook definition of a rogue, and an all around clever dastard. But still, sitting through that speech, I felt my stomach turn when they mentioned him and Say'ri. During the liberation of Roseanne, I saw how he looked at the landscape. When people recognized him, they called him a traitor and a coward. On the surface he appeared aloof and brushed it off, but… underneath that, there was something broken at his core.

Mother always told me that those who appear the happiest almost always seemed to hide the greatest sadness. When I saw him flirting with mother during a private meeting, accused him of being a useless manw-... 'casanova'. But she said to think nothing of it. Both her and Father saw him as a very, very close friend. After she told me to look deeper at his actions, I started noticing a pattern. His laughter, his jokes, his shameless demeanor. It was all so _practiced._ As if he was making an actual effort to act like a philandering idiot. But once you noticed that, the act fell apart so quickly. Every one of his motions just looked so forced, as if he was putting on a stage play to hide himself from the world.

'When your world collapses itself around you, often times you make masks to cope with that destruction. Viron has his masks. I have mine. And you, my dear, most definitely have yours.' One of the lessons she taught me here. And even though I never admitted it, my Mother wasn't wrong. When we first met, I acted cold and harsh to protect myself from her. She always acted prim and proper to protect herself from her isolation. Viron seemed to try and protect himself from his failures.

I take in a breath, finally nodding along with the idea. "He's a raunchy old man, but he's not the despot that General painted him as." I admit to the two infront of me. "Roseanne means everything to him. The idea of 'Despot' Viron sounds almost as stupid as a 'Despot' Xander."

"Then it's settled." Subaki affirms, finishing up the knot and letting his ponytail pop up freely. "We give him what assistance we can, then continue onwards to the main harbor."

"That still means we need to find a way north." I remind him, pulling the man towards me and clearly showing the encirclement of the town. "Trying to go around isn't an option, going through the forests is asking for us to get lost. Besides, we'd have to ditch the horses and our supplies."

"We could try smuggling ourselves out." Caeldori chimes, pulling out the small bag of gold coins we still have in our possession. "By my count we still have about three hundred gold marks. I'm sure purchasing passage on a pre-approved cart wouldn't be very difficult."

Again, I shake my head. Gods, this was getting overly complicated. "One, with the way people are in this area I'm sure they'd just take the money and turn us over. Two, even if we could, they're going to search the wagon again as it passes through the checkpoint. Three, _we still lose our supplies._ "

The girl's shoulders deflate in defeat, shamefully slipping the bag of coins back into her rucksack.

"...What if we tried this?"

As I look to Subaki, I see the man holding up one of the posters we had gathered from around town. Specifically a recruitment poster, one calling for able men and women to enlist into the local regiment being raised for the Valentian Army. The crest of the One Kingdom was clearly posted on the front, along with details and instructions on who to find and how to proceed. Payrates as well, they seemed higher than what we offered back in Ylisse.

Wait, what the hell am I thinking!? What did he just suggest, we join the enemy army!?

Flabbergasted, my eyes rush back and forth between the paper and his face. Finally, I stammer out what the first question that rolls out of my head. "Did you smash your head against something, flyboy!?"

"Every army needs Mercenaries." He calmly points out. "Especially three well equipped, highly skilled mercenaries. Especially an experienced Sky Knight? I'd imagine pegasus riders are always in higher demand here due to the uh… limitations of your native breed."

"We could offer to act as forward scouts." Caeldori states, continuing her father's train of thought as her face lights up at the idea. Glee began to spread across her very being at the mention of riding a pegasus was brought to her ears. A near aura of joy started to radiate out from her.

Damn it Subaki, you knew this was how she'd react to flying again. Clever little weasel.

"We don't even know if they'd give her a mount..." I point out, groaning as I pinch the bridge of my nose. Still, it's an idea. The only idea we have that isn't almost guaranteed to fail. "OK… let's say… _theoretically_ , decide to do this." I begin, seeing Caeldori's smile grow ever larger from the corner of my eye. "We'll say we're from Regina Ferox. That's a Kingdom on another continent, by the way. Find the recruitment officer and request a contract. _Somehow_ we're given one. What's our next step?"

"Well… in Hoshido, mercenaries were often given a greater degree of independence than our Royal troops. Often times they scouted ahead of their own volition." The man shrugs, finishing his thought.

Scratching my head, I started to see the logic in his statements. Mercs usually hated taking orders beyond being pointed towards something to kill, so paying them and letting them go wild wasn't that uncommon here as well. Especially when it came to Feroxi doctrine, they still acted like the barbarians they came from in a War. Looting, partying, breaking…

Smirking, I stand up to my feet and look over my two companions. I always was a good actor, tricking Lucina and Cynthia as a kid was easy pickings. What's a few meathead soldiers to a pair of Princesses? "Well alright then. Let's play soldier."

Here I thought after Valla, I'd never have to say those words again for the rest of my life. Funny how fate works.

* * *

The next day, we're walking into the lion's den without a single weapon.

Nellis' town hall had been 'donated' to the Army to be used as it's headquarters. The humble house had been completely re-decorated to look like it had always been used for this purpose. Banners, weapon racks, maps, muster charts, rosters. Adjutants and Command Staff rushed too and fro through the building, carrying scrolls and books stacked in tall towers. Every single pore of the building seemed to be alive and bustling with movement.

Subaki, Caeldori and I marched in a straight line behind our liaison. A tall, slender woman named Beril with both a sword on her hip and a rather intimidating war-axe strapped to her back. Her green hair is cut down to a very masculine crew cut, it makes my twin-tails look almost dainty in comparison. I guess some people can't handle fighting a battle and looking amazing while they do it.

"The One Kingdom's Army is always looking for talent." She continues on from before, turning her head towards us. Her entire form looked so regal. Blue eyes that seemed soft and and untouched. Her face forms a perfect, edgeless circle that looks so unaccustomed to combat. Not a single scar or scratch was present on her chocolate colored skin. Her green-accented armor seems to be new and polished, covering her almost entirely from her neck down. "And Ferox basically exports talent."

Grinning, I jerk a thumb up to myself as we kept moving down the hallway. "Of course they do, I'm the best swords-woman this side of West Ferox." Finally, I get to brag and it's a _good_ thing. Keeping it bottled up this long was gonna drive me stir crazy. "There isn't another merc alive who could beat me in a fight."

"Except I've beaten you in every one of our spars." Subaki interjects from behind me, my grin shattering as Caeldori sniggers in the rear. I quickly jab my elbow back, hearing the idiot suck in a breath right as I make contact.

"Excuse my partner, he has delusions of grandeur." I quickly answer, not dropping the pace as we reached the back of the building. Beril gave me an odd look, but paid no mind as she continued to march us into the rear room. Subaki stumbled behind a bit, clearly avoiding my striking distance for the rest of the walk. Good, he'll have even more to deal with once we're back at the Inn for embarrassing me.

Very quickly, it reminds me of the old Shepard War room. Pieces of armor and weapons strewn about in an odd sense of controlled chaos. Maps, charts and papers all lit up by oil-lamps and candles. A Valentian banner stretched across the very back wall, right above a barred window. At the table sat a pair of mages on each side, neither even lifting their heads to check upon who had made their way into this hidden alcove.

But at the center of the table sat the real deal. The same massive monolith of a man who had called for a new crusade just yesterday. The charcoal skinned general, eyes directed ever forwards at the four of us as we file into the room. Still clad in his ornate armor, as if it was a second skin over his body. Maddox was even more imposing up close. As we formed a line in front of him, my lungs collapse into a pile of mush. My heartbeat skyrockets as the words from his speech echo in my head for the umpteenth time since.

This is bad. This is really, really, _really bad._

"Uncle." Beril says with a smile, bowing towards the man before moving to the far side of our three-man formation. "The mercenaries I sent word of. They seem eager to offer their services to our great cause."

Keep calm. _Keep calm_. Don't look him in the eye, just keep staring forwards. Arms held behind your back, poise fixed and forwards. Be the perfect soldier, emulate Mother. Emulate Subaki and Caeldori.

"Not everyday a group of Feroxi sellswords arrive on my doorstep." Maddox grumbles in a earth-shaking voice, deeper than the dirt this building is even laid upon. Now that I'm closer, I can make out even more features from the corner of my eye. I never thought I'd see a man with more scars than Khan Basilio. Lines of burned, slashed and healed skin covered his face. Risen claws, sword strikes, firebombs. Just by looking at this man, he seemed un-killable compared to is fresh and free niece. "The best soldiers on this side of the planet, if my memory of the war is still intact.

His metal-gloved fingers drum on the wood surface of the table, each point of contact striking like a hammer against bone. "I'll make this blunt. A few wandering mercenaries asking for a job doesn't surprise me." He states, pressing both hands to the table as he pushes himself up to his feet. It feels like he pushed the entire world down instead, with how massive his arms appeared to be. "But why would a group from the Barbarian kingdom be here, of all places? A man my age learns to not believe in coincidences. Especially when something offered to him is… seemingly too good to be true."

I need to sell this before we end up losing our chance.

I break posture, again folding my arms across my chest and scowling at the titan of a man. Gods, he looks like he could snap me in half with his bare hands. Just… focus. You've dealt with way worse than this washed up old coot can throw at you.

"Look, General… Maddox?" I turn to face Beril once more, cocking my brow. "His name's Maddox, right?"

She nods, smile slowly fading as I fall into my usual non-chalant self. This time I face the man head on, my own eyes boring forwards to meet his own. Naga, he must be twice my height. "We've been stuck on this boring rock for the past year now. Ever since the End War, well, **ended** , things have been _way_ too boring in Ferox. Like, seriously. The risen are gone, the Grimeal are on the run. Everyone's too wounded or tired to have a brawl. There's no action! And even worse, no one's hiring! So we hitched a ride here and planned to make some coin. Figured that some sucker would need a few bodyguards."

"Do I appear to be a 'sucker' to you, young one?" Maddox questions, his hand freezing as I finish my explanation. "Do I. of all people, appear to require bodyguards? No, I need warriors. Experienced and skilled, not a red haired girl who speaks loudly and brashly. You've yet to even show if your skill matches your mouth." He replies back, my world rumbling once again as he spoke.

I just shrug at him, staying aloof as he tried to call my ability into question. Just like when I sparred with Hinata or Inigo. "OK then. Point me at the best sword-slinger you have, I'll break'em in two." I challenge, feeling a wicked grin spread across my face. How long had it been since I had an honest-to-goodness spar? Having my own little punching bag for a round in the ring would be like a mini-vacation at this point. Imaging it now, it'll be so... cathartic...

That answer prompts a smile from the man. He expected me to say that, didn't he? Good, living up to the stereotype was good. The General adjusts his gaze to his right. "Hear that, Beril? You have a challenger."

"Wait, her?" I answer, sizing the woman up once more. Really, she's the best fighter he has? I've seen cannon fodder more intimidating then this princess pretending to be a soldier. "She looks green as grass, and that's not even counting the armor."

My apparent opponent clicked her tongue, hand resting on the top of her sword. "Looks can be deceiving, barbarian."

"Really? Because you all looked the same during the last war, and we kicked your arses all the way back to Valm Castle. But let me guess, girly. You weren't even in the last war, were you? You were sitting pretty on some stool in your Capitol!" I shoot back, jutting a finger at the lady in question. As I take a step towards her, I can feel a hand firmly grab my shoulder and drag me back. Damn it, Subaki. I'm trying to chew this brat out!

"I assume we'll also be tested in our abilities, General?" He questions quickly, his grip pinning me in place as Beril and I stare daggers at each other. Maddox says something in response, but I can't make it out. My entire mind's focused on this weasel before me. I've dealt with brats like this my entire life. Silver-spoon raised idiots who never had to earn anything in their life. Just coasting by on their family's money or their status. Like Peri, or Setsuna. Except unlike them, I bet she doesn't have the bark to back up what she can do.

I'm gonna enjoy making her cry. All I need is the chance to just…

Another squeeze of my shoulder, enough to make me whip around and growl at the man behind me. "What is it!?"

"We're being addressed." Subaki pointed out, turning me around to face the very unamused General. I realize that during this entire affair, my hands have been stuck like this over my chest. Gawds, I must look ridiculous.

"Your group will accompany Beril and her platoon on a scouting expedition northwards You will report on Roseanne's defenses, and what manpower you find." He explains, sitting himself back down and resting both hands on the table. He pushed a rolled up chart to the side, letting Beril pick it up from the oak surface. "Consider this your evaluation. If my Niece deems you unfit, then I deem you unfit. Questions?"

Great. We're gonna be stuck in the woods with twenty other morons and Miss Priss. Group camping sucked already with people I _liked,_ now I need to share tents with these zealots. Still, it's even terms. Plus... I'll get a chance to knock her block off when we make a break for Roseanne itself. "We're getting paid in the meantime?" I ask with finality, hoping that I'm acting like a proper killer for hire.

The man grunts in the affirmative. With one last glare at my new 'Commander', I nod in agreement. "We're at your disposal, Sir." I lie through my teeth.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Summer courses, midterms, final papers, and studying. Updates will slow down a tad, but expect one minimum a week still.**_


	6. C-5: Acts of Gods

When most people say platoon, you would expect a smaller number of soldiers. Twenty or so men, right? A group of scouts, probably well experienced in their field. Older men and women, lightly armed and armored. Quality over quantity is what you want in your advance force, that was the entire point of the Shepherds when we acted with the rest of the Ylissean Army.

So why in the hell am I in a camp with fifty newbies?

I couldn't believe my eyes when the group was assembled back in Nellis. Baby-faced, all of them. Each wearing little more than a light set of leather armor and a simple iron sword. Shoulder to shoulder with iron shields, backs straight, feet pressed together. Each staring forwards with an unwavering gaze. Beril beamed with pride as she stood in front of them. When Subaki asked her about their ability, she said that they were each the best soldiers from their varying training cadres. Each one chosen to be part of her own personal strike-force.

They marched here in perfect unison. None of them complained as each one of them carried their own supplies on their backs. I never heard them say a peep unless they were spoken to. It had an odd… chill. They felt, looked, and acted like they were elite soldiers. Sure, each of them had the potential to be great down the line. But now? Outside of formations and marches? They had a lot of cracks.

The first problem is obvious. During spars that evening, I watch pairs of these so-called 'Stormtroopers' go at one another. Each of them fights with the same doctrine, overagression. First they rush forward at their opponent, then throw a flurry of slashes at the torso. Up, down, up, down. Classic Astra form. The force behind each strike is lessened, then made for by the increase in the _amount_ of strikes. The intent is to knock the opponent off balance and slip the blade into their ribs. Not a bad tactic at all, but not a good one to rely on solely. These idiots tire themselves out before the first minute of a duel even passes.

The second problem is even worse. Caeldori volunteers to spar against another boy, about her age and a bit taller than her. The spar begins the same as the others, a rushing attack followed Astra technique. But then, midway through his _oh so righteous fury_ , Caeldori slips her naginata between his strikes, whips her blade to the right, and sends the sword flying out of his hands and right into the trunk of a nearby tree. Before the runt can even react, she's already introduced the blunt-end of her staff right to his… 'family jewels'. And this scenario repeats itself. Not, once, no. Not twice. But _six times._ Boy or girl, tall or short, young or old. Each of them can't even handle a basic counter-attack.

Then there's the kicker. I step in afterwards to take Caeldori's place, draw my sword, then get one of them into the ring with me. When the bell rings, I'm the one to make the first strike. I run forwards, then kick off towards the guy. A simple, one handed trust with my sword that Lucina taught me a long time ago. I'm telegraphing my attacks, too. Hell I'm not even sprinting at him. This should be easy to sidestep, right?

Wrong! If it wasn't for the shield on his shoulder, my blade would've gone through his heart. He even falls on his flat on his arse afterwards. At that point I just spin around and kick him in the back of the head. He's out cold before he even hits the ground.

"Your men are worthless." I inform Beril as we stand at the edge of camp, looking out across the river at the borderlands of Roseanne. A river marks the natural border between the Duchy and Valentian territory. Being stuck here with Miss Priss is the last thing I want, but until we get a clear shot to make a run for it, I need to at least pretend that I'm loyal. At least I've got an apple to munch on, it takes my mind off of my company.

The woman scoffs as she continues to look through her binoculars, focusing on a group of people I can't really make out in the far distance. "My dear sellsword, you really think you can determine that from a few spars?" She asks, clearly intending to brush my comment to the side. Ugh… _this_ is why I can't stand silver-spoons. Too proud to even take any advice… yes, I know that's hypocritical, **me**. Stop contradicting yourself in your head.

"That, and how they act." I continue, polishing my apple with my sleeve before looking into my reflection. Gods, it's been weeks since I've been able to do my hair properly. I need some shampoo. And a proper brush. And maybe a bit of dye? I wouldn't mind going back to my old hair-color... Y'know what, I'm asking Viron if he has some sort of royal hairdresser. With all the help I'm gonna give him, he owes me. "The fact that they're horrible in a duel aside, have you ever watched them?"

I raise my free hand, lifting a finger as I list off each point. "If they aren't in formation, they bumble around like kids. None of them know how to start a fire, Subaki had to teach them that. Caeldori had to explain to them what 'cresting' meant when they were trying to survey from that hill a ways back. I had to show them how to set up their tents without using the trees as a base-pole. They can't cook for their lives, basically everyone's living off of dried rations. Only four of them know anything about hunting, and that's from past experience."

My glorious commander lowered her binoculars, looking at me with unveiled confusion. "We brought enough rations to last us four days, why would we need to hunt?"

"Animals draw attention to things that aren't supposed to be there. Like, I dunno, a fifty-odd man war party clearly scouting ahead for a larger force?" My voice is laced with sarcasm as I reply, unable to believe the question. Gods, she's going to get all of her men killed. I almost feel bad for the suckers.

Beril, at my surprise, seems to take it to heart. As I take my first bite out of my apple, she lifts her binoculars back to her eyes and continues to scan the town's outskirts. "For a commoner, you have wisdom. Reminds me of my uncle in a way, even if you are but a child."

Rolling my eyes, I swallow down my food quickly. "I'm twenty-five, you numbskull." I answer before chomping down another bite of the red fruit. Hard to believe, it's been five years since I first arrived in Valla. Seven since we all fled back through time with Naga's help. It's weird… I should feel like I'm an adult by now. I'm married, I have a kid. I've survived **five wars.** I've travelled through time, warped to different realms. I've been a survivor, a soldier, a retainer, and now a mercenary. Yet the world still makes me feel so… insignificant.

Another bite, another swallow. "You have a lot to learn, Miss Priss. Being a noble doesn't mean you know what you're doing."

"Mind your tone, mercenary." She shot back, glaring at me from the corner of her eye. Oh, getting under your skin am I? Well now I _have_ to keep bothering you, it's only fair of me.

"I'm just saying. You don't want to disappoint your dear uncle now, do you?" I ask with the smuggest grin I can muster. If I can't beat her to a pulp, I may as well make her suffer another way.

"What are you getting at, Feroxi?"

Responding with a shrug, I continue on. "Nothing, Commander. Nothing. It just seems like you have so much to prove. The General's big, _huge_ fella. That guy could probably bench a wyvern! Then we have…" Looking to my left, I fake a wince and suck in a bit of air. "You. Oh dear."

Once again she lowers her binoculars, both of her vermillion eyes boring into me as she faces me down. Again, her hand rests on her sword. She doesn't seem wanting to draw it yet. Oh please, please do. Give me a reason to fight you. Let me just embarrass you in front of all of your men.

"I have to ask." Lifting a finger to my chin, eyes up to the sky as I try to act pensive. "How _did_ someone as clueless as you get put on the front? Didn't peg the big-man as a nepotist."

"I am here because of my ability, not my blood!" She protests, grip tightening around the hilt of her sword. Ooooooh, this is too much fun. It's like teasing Cynthia all over again, that blue-haired dummy.

Covering my mouth, faking shock before I dig even deeper. "Really? He did mention that you're skilled with a sword. Shame that ability doesn't seem to translate to command. Maybe _that's_ why you're stuck with the scouting job! So you don't screw up in combat and get all of your men killed!"

" **ENOUGH!"** The woman roars, a flock of black birds soaring over our heads as she startles them out of their slumber. Veins start popping out from beneath the woman's chocolate skin. Her buzzed hair almost stands out on it's ends. Under her armor, I can see her chest rise and fall with each breath she takes. Pissed off to a T, Niles would be high-fiving me if he was here. "I will not be mocked by a damned barbarian! Especially one as uncouth as you! Leave my presence at once! Be glad I do not dismiss your army from this party entirely!"

"Dear, if you did that, you'd lose the only three decent soldiers in this rabble." I end with a sweet smile, spinning off and marching off with another victorious bite of my apple before I throw the core over my shoulder. Wow, that _was_ cathartic. Nothing feels better then bringing an egotistical brat down a few pegs.

As I walk into the camp, a few events catch my eye. A blonde boy and girl sparring in the ring, using a few of the tricks Caeldori had shown them earlier. They were still a long way from handling a real battle, but at least now they had the building blocks. Maybe they'd actually survive their first fight. Another pair, two darker haired girls, polishing their gear and chatting with each other. Discussing the thing only girls their age care about. Clothes, boys, their next leave period. Going shopping in the town-square when they arrive back at Nellis. Oh, that would've been nice… if only we had the money. Damn it!

Three more of the troopers surround the fire, the youngest of them being a short boy with a broad-brimmed hat. He beams at the group as he explains to them the basics of tracking and hunting wild boar, one of the subjects in question spinning on a spit over the open flame. It looks fresh, too. They must've caught it within the past hour. One of them waves at me as we pass by, calling me 'Miss Selena.' I smile and wave back, continuing on towards my own tent. Gods, what's this light feeling I have in my chest…

Finally, near the rear of the woods, I see a larger collection of men and women. Each of them on a knee, facing a makeshift shrine with a few dragon-statues placed in a straight line. Behind it stands the unit's lone priest, another young man with an eyepatch and a bit of a slump. He speaks in a dark, low voice. Everyone one of his movements seems slow and subdued. But his words reverberate around him, reaching all ears. Including mine.

" **Each day, we give thanks to the Goddess' bounty."** He doesn't even notice me stop and watch in the distance, too deep into his sermon. **"With Naga's guidance, and with the will of the Voice behind us, we shall overcome any obstacle. The will of the Divine Dragons is one with our own. Our goal is a righteous and a holy one. Only through strength in faith, will we truly destroy the essence of the Fell Dragon once and for all. To do so we need unity, Valentia must be made whole again."**

" **May the light of Naga's blessing aid us."** His congregation responds in unison, heads still bowed.

" **And may it sustain us in this journey. May it make our foes join us in arms. May it aid us in smiting the last of the Grimeal. May it direct us to the Vessel's unholy spawn, so that we may cleanse them from this world. Amen."**

" **Amen."** They all reply, rising in unison and dispersing throughout the camp. The Priest finally notices me, eyes fixing on my own before nodding. I nod back, nervously going back on my way before he tries to engage me in some kind of conversation.

I can't feel sorry for these people. Even if I have to betray them, it's for the right reasons. If this Army ever reached Altea, the destruction would be… horrible. We were lucky to stop the fleet the first time. If they made landfall, countless people would've died.

And then there's this Fell Dragon crap. They're hellbent on wiping out anything and anyone that was associated with Grima. Even the 'Vessel's spawn'. Do they mean Robin's children? Are they going to go after them as well? If anything happened to Morgan, I couldn't forgive myself. I spent too much time keeping her safe in the future. Mom and Dad were dead, I felt so alone. I had the others, but most of all I had her. She was my responsibility. For the longest time she was the reason I kept on fighting.

The smoke of the camp's fires curls high into the sky behind me as I reach our tent. Settling into the bedspread, I shut my eyes. The others aren't here yet, that gives me time to think. Tomorrow, we'll leave. Slip away through the forest and ford the river downstream. After that, making it to Roseanne should be easy. Hopefully Viron's rebuilt his country's army somewhat. If not, he's gonna need help.

Subaki and Caeldori will want to stay and offer that help. So do I, but… can I really risk putting them in harm's way again?

* * *

That night, my dreams are replaced with a memory. The night we told Corrin about our true intentions in her world.

The new palace that was constructed for the Vallite Kingdom was something unique. A mix of both Hoshidan and Nohrian architecture coming together to form a new style. Colors danced together in near perfect harmony. Tapestries designed by Oboro and Camilla hung across large stone pillars. The short hall was a compact rectangle, not as lavish as it's Hoshidan or Nohrian counterparts. It felt humble, but not empty. As if it had all it needed to possess. It fit Corrin's personality well.

A twin set of thrones rested at the very end of the hall. The walls were lined with large windows on each side of the audience-hall, with light beaming down upon the three of us as we presented ourselves to the new Queen and King. Each of us was on a single knee, sword drawn and pressed to the ground as we bowed our heads and explained ourselves.

At the end of our tale, each of us lifted our heads. Corrin nodded once, her brow was furrowed as she tried to think the situation over. Kaze was on her flank, hands behind his back as a frown formed on his face. Seeing the green-haired ninja at a loss was rare. On the opposite side, Silas leaned forward in his seat and rested his chin upon his hands, the crown on his head tilting slightly forwards before he pushed it back up. Jakob was the one on his flank, mouth wide in surprise. Now him, I was glad to see so confused. Smarmy little jerk.

"I've gotta hand it to you guys. This is one of the craziest stories I've heard in my life." Silas started, sitting himself back up and placing both of his hands upon the throne's armrests. A Nohrian noble Knight turned a new king. He still wore his old Paladin armor, and it suit him. Especially considering his new stature.

"Silas, you know we'd never lie to either of you." Inigo replied, sheathing his sword back onto his hip. Both of the grey haired mercenary's hands rested behind his back. His gaze moved over to Corrin. "I'm sorry we didn't tell you sooner, your Highness. But…"

"Anakos died before he told us your name." Owain, this time. His face was beet red, eyes shooting back and forth between the royal couple's retainers extremely quickly. Gods, he was so petrified he didn't even try to keep up his whole 'Odin Dark' act. Meanwhile I stood there sandwiched between both of them, trying to stay my nerves as I kept my eyes focused on Corrin.

Inigo nodded in confirmation. "Yes. All we knew was that you resided in Nohr, so we left for Nohr. Each of us joined the Royal Army in hopes of finding you one day."

"Well, I'm glad you told us." Silas replied, smiling at our trio. "I'll admit, it's hard for me to buy this. Buuuuut, we did fight a massive dragon hellbent on destroying the world. Who turned out to be my father-in-law! That was uh… interesting."

"But it explained why I can turn into a dragon." Corrin finally mused, red eyes flicking between each of us. "That explains why my siblings couldn't find records of you before you joined the Army… so _none_ of you are from here?"

Owain shook his head, sucking in his chest and moving forward. "Nay, your highness. We are but shadowy heroes, traversing time and space itself to quench our thirst for adventure! When I heard your father tell such an cruel tale of his fate and actions, how could I stand by and allow a folly to take place? Such actions would be unsuitable for a warrior of legend such as Odin D-"

"Owain, cut it out." I finally muttered, glaring at the back of the man's head. I lifted a hand from my hips to smack the 'warrior of legend' in the back of his head, before grabbing his shoulder and dragging him backwards. Again, I looked to Corrin, explaining further. "Where we're from, a crazy dragon destroyed almost everything. Our homes, our country, our family, they all died. It was… horrible. We couldn't just let that happen again here."

"I see…" Corrin answered, sorrow coming across her form as she heard our origin story. The girl wasn't as naive as she was when I met her, but she certainly hadn't lost that blasted empathy of hers. "I'm grateful you all came. Each of you have become dear friends of mine during our journey through Valla. I can't believe that… I never knew about such suffering you all went through." It was as if she absorbed the sorrow we all emanated from our pasts and took it on herself, trying to help shoulder our burden. "But, why tell us this? Did my Father ask you to do another task?"

Inigo shook his head, but as he spoke, the dream shattered. An alien smell began to fill my nose. Something all to familiar.

Brimstone.

* * *

I lift my head, eyes wide open as the telltale screech of a Wyvern smashes into my eardrums.

The camp's already ablaze by the time I get to it's center.

At the front, I see a group of lavender-clad soldiers rush forwards. The fleur of Roseanne clear and present on their banner as they press through with spears leveled. The unit's a complete and utter mess, Beril's Stormtroopers having broken all semblance of discipline and rushing backwards through the forest. Smoke chokes out the sun above me, curling up into the morning sky.

The scorch marks that line the ground are clear and distinct. Whoever made these has a clear command over their mount. Not many casualties to speak of, though. I see only two from my position. One charred corpse next to a tent, and another girl with a pair of arrows protruding from her back. Both look Valentian in uniform and armament. All the while our attackers are almost on me.

I draw my sword and dig my feet into the ground, spotting three spearmen rushing at me first and foremost. I need to find Subaki and Caeldori before I even bother trying to parlay with whoever's leading these soldiers.

The first man who attacks me makes a slow thrust with his spear. I sidestep to the right and lop his weapon's tip off, then send a roundhouse kick flying into his chest. He stumbles back, running into one of his friends behind him and sending them both falling like a pair of ragdolls.

Another soldier approaches, lifting his poleaxe up and swinging it down in a crest. This time I lunge forwards, grabbing the shaft of his weapon and ripping it out of his hands. As he's yanked forwards by the momentum, I bring my elbow smashing into his jaw, before whipping my sword'-hilt around and caving his helmet in. As the final conscious soldier tries to dig herself out from under my first assailant, I move over and stomp my boot harshly against her jaw. Three down.

Another group of enemies appears, four this time. This time however, it's different. Two mercenaries, a mage, and an archer. Continuing my momentum, I press into the first merc, lowering my shield-bearing shoulder and charging into his chest. As he's pushed back, his companion makes a wild-strike at my side, which I promptly block and parry out of my way. With that I crouch down, kicking my foot out and knocking the merc's legs out from under him.

Right after, a fireball soars just above my head. A few stray strands of my beautiful hair are charred away into nothingness at a moment.

Why can't these guys just LEAVE ME ALONE?

Rolling over to the merc I just kneecapped, I straddle him for a brief moment before decking him in the nose twice. His head lags back as red starts seeping from his nostrils. Meanwhile his twin I tackled prior starts to drag himself up, but not before I move over and give him a hand of my own.

As I pull us both up to our feet, I press my blade against his throat and turn to face both the mage and archer. Staring them down from a distance, digging my feet into the charred earth below us. "Don't move, don't move an inch." I hiss into his ear, feeling him gulp down as my sword bounces against his jugular. Gods, I don't want to kill anyone! Why are all of these jokers focusing on me!? Where's Subaki and Caeldori!?

The two hold their ground, fire still resting in the palm of the mage's hand while the archer glares at me with an arrow nocked. She lowers her bow slightly, clearly not willing to skewer her comrade just to get at me. Good, they have some humanity. I can work with that.

That's when I actually notice something, though. They're not dressed the same as the other soldiers. Well, _obviously_ they aren't due to their different class. But they also have different styles entirely. The mage's cap is lined with a dark blue, a sash resting around his shoulders as he stares me down. The archer also has the same darker tone upon her outfit, a white mark stamped upon her leather chestpiece just atop her breast.

It's… not a fleur. It's a brand.

A very familiar brand.

 **...Crap.**

"What're Ylisseans doing here!?" I call out, panic overtaking me as I realize how bad of a situation this is. I'm fighting my own people. I'm hurting my own people. But Subaki and Caeldori don't know that. What if they're still fighting? What if someone's been killed!? Crap, crap, crap.

Neither of the two respond, merely looking behind me as I feel a rush of wind hit my back.

Before I can turn around, I feel a strong jolt of electricity hit me right in the lower spine.

I'm out like a light.

* * *

By the time I'm coming to, I'm being dragged forwards by a pair of soldiers. Each holding one of my arms. My knees skid across the ground painfully, each bump and hole in the dirt feeling like a punch from a taguel. My head's still dazed, I can't feel a damn thing.

Ahead of me I see a cart, a few prisoners lined up on their knees in front of it. From the back I can see Subaki and Caeldori's distinct hair. They're OK. Thank the Gods they're OK. Now if only I could say the same for my damned head… ugh, I'm gonna puke.

"If she hurls, Gwen, I'm letting you drag her onto the wagon." I hear one of my transporters say, tugging me along with even more force.

"If she hurls, I'm throwing her in the river and leaving her to drown." His companion responds in a gruff tone, not having any of it. As we reach the line, the both throw me down at the foot of the cart. I don't even have the strength to pull myself up, I'm just lying there. Pathetic.

Caeldori cries out to me, I can hear a bit of a scuffle as someone tries to keep her down. Subaki barks out an order, telling her to stay still or not do something stupid. I can't tell, I'm drifting in and out of consciousness right now.

Two female voices take over the conversation, ordering the the men to start loading the other prisoners into the cart. One by one, I see five others get loaded into the rear. Then, the wagon pulls out, wheels turning away as a bit of dirt is pushed up atop one of my pigtails. In the end all that's left are Subaki, Caeldori and I.

"So these three were the ones who actually put up a fight?" I hear yet another feminine voice question. A bit younger and lively. She sounds curious, as if someone had just shown her three exotic animals from a zoo. She sounds so… familiar…

"Indeed. Each of them defeated about five soldiers a piece, according to the Sergeant at Arms." Another voice replied, older this time. Softer as well, but also more clear-cut and precise. She sounds familiar too. Come on, Severa. Just… lift your head up. Take a look at them, damn it. Stop laying around like you're dead.

"The swordswoman's alive. Barely. That thunder-tomb of yours nearly killed her." The second voice commented, pacing about to my left side.

"I uh… might've… overdid it." A nervous laugh answers the woman's comment, before she wanders over to my companions. "They don't look Valmese. Feroxi mercs, maybe?"

"No, they don't fight like Feroxi." I feel the tip of a boot touch my arm. "This one used a Ylissean style, I saw it from Minerva. The others used a style completely foreign to me."

Cherche. Of course it's Cherche, she's the Duchess of this country.

"Will one of you please stop gawking and **help her!?** " I can hear Caeldori plead, her voice breaking apart like shattered glass. Don't cry, dear. I'm fine, mother's fine. I just… need to catch my breath.

"We already sent for a cleric, young one. Your friend will live." Cherche answered calmly, the sound of her boots crunching against the dirt as she walks away from me. "What's your name, dear? You seem far too young to be a killer for hire."

"I won't tell you a blasted thing until you help my mother!" She screeches back. "At least help her up! See if she's breathing!"

"She's breathing, I can hear her." The other voice answers. "But you're right, leaving her face down like this is kinda cruel."

With that, I can feel a pair of gloved hands take hold of my shoulders and lift me up. Slowly I'm spun around, with my back resting against some kind of barrel or box. I can suddenly hear a sharp gasp come from my courier's mouth, the same gloved hand moving a bit of hair out of my face as she utters another word. "S-S-Severa?"

Open. Your. Eyes. Slowly, my eyelids finally listen to what I've been telling them to do for the past ten minutes. The sun blinds them for a few seconds, my headache taking a whole new level of intensity as my vision slowly returns back to me.

First I see Cherche, her hand lifted up to her mouth. Eyes wide with shock. She looks exactly as I remember her. Oval, rounded face with a Wyvern-wing collar and headband. The same silver armor cradles her neck and torso, the woman's battered double-headed axe visible over her shoulder. "She's alive? But she's been missing for-"

"Five years." The other woman finishes, my eyes slowly shifting over to her. It's… not a woman at all. It's a girl, three years younger than me. Purple eyes welling up with tears, and a tuft of short-red hair that I'd recognize anywhere. She's grown up, the girl I left behind now looks so different now. A set of dark-flier armor sandwiches her tactician's cloak. Her old pants have been replaced by a skirt, stockings and long riding boots. Two wings of leg armor hang off her side, connected by a pair of belts crossing over her waist.

I'm smiling like a fool as I realize who it is. Laughing like one too, everyone probably thinks I'm delusional. I might be, there's a chance I'm seeing something that isn't even there. But I hope it's true, Gods… please let it be her.

"Severa. You're…" She doesn't even finish the sentence, wrapping her arms around me and falling apart in the embrace. I can hear her crying into my shoulder. My uniform turning wet as her tears soak it down to my skin.

It's a struggle, but I force my hands up around her, bringing her a bit closer as I manage a weak hug. I run one of my hands through her crimson hair, chuckling softly at this scene she's making. This only makes it worse, the big dummy just starts crying anymore. But I'm used to it. I held her like this when we were kids, too. We were all we had, after all.

"B-big sis. You're home. You're home, you're home…" She babbles, again and again. Each time it's becoming less and less coherent.

All I can do is keep up my smile and hold the hug, happily resting my head against my younger sibling's crying form.

"That's right Morgan. I'm home."

* * *

 _ **A/N: Yeaaaaaah folks called it earlier. Dropped plenty of hints before, figure it was time to stop being coy.**_

 _ **Midterms're done, so now I can get back to writing a bit more regularly! Also we've reached over 2,250 views! *Confetti***_

 _ **Bonus, here's Morgan's new outfit: . /fireemblem/images/5/58/Female_Morgan_ /revision/latest?cb=20180308095302**_

 ** _Courtesy_** _ **of Fire Emblem: Heroes.**_


	7. C-6: Heirs of Grima

_**A/N: Right, normally I fill these in at the end, but this is more for information purposes. As I'm sure some of you have noticed, I have an odd system of labeling the chapters. Basically a 'C' followed by the number.**_ _ **I'm trying to emulate the way chapters are listed in Awakening and Fates. This segment is the second of three styles that will be placed into the story.**_

 _ **Main chapters will have the 'C-#' prefix. These are integral for the story, are always full-sized and will always be told from the protagonist's first person perspective.**_

 _ **Paralogues are sidestories. They'll have the 'P-#' prefix. They're relevant to the story as well, but may or may not be told from Severa's point of view. Some might not even involve her at all, just other members of the main cast of this Book. These will always be one-shot short chapters, offering a bit of context or information that doesn't fit in a normal chapter.**_

 _ **Xenologues have the 'X-#' prefix, and are stories that aren't centered around regular characters for this Book at all. Instead they're tangential tales that either help build the world or show some information about the environment this takes place in. They may appear in short, two to three segment chains.**_

 _ **Any stories with an * have been edited or re-uploaded for some purpose, probably my OCD forcing me to rewrite it.**_

 _ **And that's the info-dump! Back to the story!**_

 _ **Sidenote: Speaking of... chapter reuploaded due to my not saving the right draft. Oops.**_

* * *

When I wake up once more, I find myself in the same position that I was when this whole mess started. Alone, lying down with my head pressed against a soft bed of… something. This time, instead of being surrounded by trees and grass, I can smell the faint stench of medicines. White walls and a brown ceiling encompass me. I'm in some sort of room, that much is for sure. But… ugh. My head's still fuzzy as hell.

Trying to sit up, I feel something covering my body. It feels so soft… bed sheets? Am I on a mattress? Looking down at my stomach confirms it. I am, in fact, enshrouded by a few layers of linen and cloth. Rather thick cloth, too. I can feel myself sweating underneath this crap.

Pulling myself out, from my own personal mummification, I throw my legs over the side of the bed and look down at my stomach again. Stripped down to my smallclothes, my usual black undergarments also being accompanied by a string of bandages wrapped around my torso. The small of my back smarts like nuts. Gods, it's hard for me to even sit up. Still, I gotta try and stand. Lazing about in here's not gonna do me any good.

Grabbing onto the side of the bed, I quickly push myself upwards and land on my feet. Regretting the move instantly as my head started to swirl around. Right, moving this quickly, bad idea! Everything's double, head's spinning, ears are ringing. OK, just gotta… grab the wall. Almost, almost… good! Now hold on until the world stops looking like I'm riding a drunk pegasus.

That's when someone opens the door and scuttles inside from behind me, gasping loudly before grabbing my shoulders from behind. Turning my head, I spot none other than the reason I'm even stuck in this blasted bed.

"Severa, what're you doing!?" Morgan sputters out in panic, guiding me back down onto the bed as carefully as she can. Her gloves are off now, fingers digging into my bare skin as she holds me in place upon my return to the mattress. "You shouldn't be standing right now. I'm surprised you can even move after the hit I gave you!"

She continues to push me down, forcing me back into lying onto the bed. Still too weak to resist a girl half as strong as I usually am. This day just keeps getting better and better. "Still haven't heard an apology yet." I grumbled, resting both of my legs atop the sheets before she could suffocate me under them again. "And where the heck are we?"

"The hospital in Roseanne Castle." She answers, sitting herself down at the side of the bed and resting her hands on her lap. So it wasn't all a dream, she really is here. My own little nutjob of a sister, in the flesh. Thousands of miles from our home, in a country she has no business being in. Judging from the Ylissean soldiers, I'm gonna guess she's got more than a good reason _to_ be here though. "You've been out for two days now, actually. But the clerics said you'll be all healed up by tomorrow!"

"T-two days?" I stammer out, my eyes widening in surprise. "Two **days?** What the hell did you hit me with, Morgan!? An Arcthunder tome!?"

"Uh… no." She answers meekly, eyes jumping about as she unleashes yet another nervous smile. "J-just a normal Thunder tome. But you had a hostage! So I needed to… make… sure?"

As she focuses her gaze back onto me, I sigh and roll my own pair of eyes. How does she do that? One smile and I can't even be mad at her anymore. Even when she almost fries me alive like a fish fillet. "You're an idiot." I say half-heartedly, smirking at her. "But at least one of us paid attention to Dad's magic lessons."

"Uh… the one where we always go for the guaranteed takedown? Or blasting first, ask questions later?" Morgan asks with genuine curiosity. I shrug in response, and both of us share a laugh.

Oof, ugh. OK, hurts to laugh. You're just full of bad ideas today Sev.

"So. Why're you here. And what happened to your cloak? You look like a…"

"Pegasus knight?" She finishes for me, beaming happily as she hopped up to her feet. She gave me a small twirl around so I could take in how she looked entirely. I had to say, the outfit works for her. "Don't I look _awesome?_ Mother helped me fit the armor to go with my cloak! Now I'm armored, _and_ I can show off to boot!"

"I'm glad at least one of us kept up the family legacy." I commented, my eyes focusing on her form rather than her clothing. She really had matured while I was gone. Her hips seemed more pronounced, lips were more full. She'd even grown a few inches, even if I was still taller than her by a bit. Her voice was a bit deeper, her attitude a bit more less zany. Gods, I can't believe I missed her turning into a woman. She finished growing up without me.

I must look as guilty as I feel, because she stops spinning almost immediately and folds her arms over her chest. "Heyyy! I'm sorry, OK! I won't shock you again, I swear!" She protests mockingly, sticking her tongue out for a brief moment before beaming once more.

"Yeah, yeah. Sure." I dismiss quickly. "So you joined the Pegasus Knights?"

"Yes and… no." She clarifies, sitting herself back down onto the bed once more. "Mother put me through the training and the initiation. Well, Queen Sumia did. They figured that having the Captain induct her daughter might be a bit biased. But, I passed! So I'm technically a Knight!"

"But the Regiment isn't here. Which means you're not attached with them." I point out, not having seen any flapping wings around the area while the skirmish was going on.

Again she shakes her head. "Nope! I'm the uh… what's my official title right now…" OK, maybe she's still as airheaded as I remember. Wait, why is she digging through her pack waist-pack? And now she's pulling out a scroll? Oh my Gods, does she really need a written note to remember what her job is!? "Right, here it is! Uh… 'Military advisor to the Duke and Duchess of Roseanne. Acting Commander of the Ylissean Expeditionary Force'." She reads off, nodding to herself before rolling the the scroll back up and pocketing it into her pouch again.

"Really. You couldn't remember that?" I deadpan at her.

All she does is shrug. "Who caaaares? I'm doing the same thing Dad trained me to! Come up with battle plans and organize troops! Even if it's only about five-hundred guys."

I snort, rolling my eyes again. But then I sigh deeply, my mind drifting back to the thoughts of our father. "Daddy hasn't come back yet, has he?"

Six words and I manage to send a knife through the good mood of the room, nice to know I have a knack for this sort of thing still. Morgan's shoulders slump at the mention of our Father's untimely passing, shaking her head clearly. "No." She confirms, the joy sapped out of her voice. "I uh… we looked again. But, we couldn't find him."

I nod in understanding, but she isn't finished just yet. "We um… we had a funeral for him. In Ylisse. Everyone turned up. Except you, Owain and Inigo."

Shame. Shame is only word that describes what I feel as she tells me this information. My mouth juts open as I attempt to form some kind of response, but again I just can't. My eyes start to prick and water. They had a funeral for him. Probably a State funeral, considering his position. He was the Grandmaster of the Army, after all. They probably had a parade. All of the Shepherds probably gave eulogies. Mother probably helped carry the casket to wherever they buried him.

Damn it all, I shouldn't cry. He wouldn't want me to cry.

"I'm not mad at you, Severa." Morgan said calmly, leaning over to place a hand over my own. As I open my eyes back up I can see that she's inched closer, smiling again as she speaks in a soft tone. For the first time, we have the same hair-color. Now we actually look like sisters. "I know you would've come if you knew. Everyone did. But we couldn't find you. Or Inigo, or Owain. What happened? Where did you go?"

"I-it's…" Focus, be strong. Explain as best as you can. "...We had to go somewhere to help someone. It took us a long time, but we did it. Now we're back. It's complicated, I'll try and tell you more another time. OK?"

Again the little tactician nods, giving my hand another squeeze. "Alright. I might not be mad at you for missing the big shindig, but not inviting me to your wedding? Come on, Sis! That's just uncalled for."

Snorting like a pig, I sit up and slug her half-heartedly in the arm. "Hey, we were far away! Besides, I've seen you at weddings. You prolly would've eaten the entire kitchen, like you did when Gerome and Cynthia got hitched!"

"You can't prove I was involved!" She protested, blushing heavily until her face matched the same tone as her hair. "Yarne was the one face-first in the salmon! And Nah was basically rolling around in the deserts!"

"Yeah, and how did they get all of that food outta the reception hall and into the Shepard barracks?" I question with another deadpan. "Oh, not to mention how you were _miraculously_ missing the entire time?"

"I demand a lawyer." Morgan requested with as straight of a poker-face as she could pull off, both of us staring each other down. Five seconds. Ten seconds. Fifteen seconds. Then we both just start laughing, falling over the bed and howling at the memory. Just like old times again, the two of us jabbing back and forth.

"Ok, OK. Oh Gods, I haven't laughed like that in a few months." Morgan manages out, trying to level herself once more.

I raise a brow in disbelief. "A few months? Wow, that's some restraint you've gotten. Haven't pranked anyone in that long?"

"That was before I had an actual _job,_ with _responsibilities_ and… _bleh._ " She complains, resting her head over my bandaged stomach in faux fatigue. "How did Dad and Mom handle acting this straight-laced all the time!? I haven't been able to let loose in soooo long! I feel like I'm gonna just explode with prankster-energy!"

"If you're gonna explode, do it far away from me." I request, tugging her back upright and off of my body. Now my ribs hurt as much as my back, great.. "But enough of that. What else did I miss back home! Did anyone else get together?"

"Oh! Yeah!" All at once, she lights up again like a Yuletide tree. I think I actually have whiplash. "Laurent and Nah're a thing now! They haven't tied the knot, but they've been dating for about a year now…? Yeah, I think so! They're actually kinda cute together! Even though Laurent's a bit of a wet noodle around her."

"That boy has some really weird tastes, I'll give him that." I grumble.

"Noire and Yarne are still together, I think? But you knew that already."

"Of course I did, I ran into them making out." Shuttering as I remember that cursed image that day in the castle. Never again would I look at the taugel and the archer the same way. Especially Noire, usually she wasn't that… 'forwards' with people.

"Kjelle's still single. She still hasn't found a guy yet, it's… strange."

"That's because Kjelle… uh… let's just say she has a different pallet." No need to out her, technically she doesn't even know what happened during that Harvest Festival. Nor does she need to, slobbering all over me like that.

Morgan, thank the Gods, didn't catch on. But I did notice she left one of our old friends out of her recap. "So what about Brady? Did he find someone to settle down with yet?" I question innocently. The Priest was more than a bit rough around the edges, but I'm sure he could find some girl who could stomach his hardarse play he liked to put on for everybody. If _Yarne_ could get someone to fall for him, I'm sure he could.

Thaaaats when Morgan went quiet again. Way, way too quiet for her. She even turns to face away from me a bit, looking over at the table near my head. What is she doing? And why is she rubbing her neck? Plus her cheeks are flushing again-

Oh no.

No. No, no, **no.**

"You did not."

"In my defense-"

"You did _ **not."'**_

"He's a real sweetheart, Severa! Really!"

" _Morgan!"_

"No, I mean it!" She rushes to explain, turning back around as her hands move in a flurry of movements with her words. "He's so nice to me, Sis! He treats me like I'm the only girl in the world! Whenever I need something, he's there! Whenever I'm feeling down, he always picks me back up! Yeah, he's rough around the edges. But he's so kind and soft at the center! He's like you! Well… maybe not as rough as you."

She isn't making me budge. I shake my head. "Uh uh, no. I don't like it."

"Come on, Severa!"

"Morgan, **he thought you were a spy!"**

"I had **amnesia!** And I appeared outta nowhere! Plus I didn't go with you guys through the portal! Is it really that surprising that he suspected me!?"

Wait, what? "Hold up." I cut her off again, pressing a finger to her lips. " _Had_ amnesia. As in, past tense?"

Morgan nodded again at a rapid pace. "A-after the war was done, we went back to Mount Prism and had Naga did some uh… gobble-goo in my head." She explains, spinning a finger around the side of her cranium. "It's uh… it's not perfect. Apparently Grima did a number on me when I got dragged back in time. But I remember bits and pieces now. Of our old timeline, I mean! Growing up with you, Mom and Dad."

"So you remember me now? Like, actually remember me?" I can't believe what I'm hearing. For years I thought I'd never get the old Morgan back, or the times we spent together in our old world. But now…

The Knight nods her head rapidly, clearly glad to get out from under my ire. "Yeah! Well… kinda. Bits and pieces. I remember the house we grew up in again. That estate on the outskirts of Yllistol?" Now I'm the one nodding, confirming her words. "Oh, and that time you tried to ride Mom's Pegasus as a kid and got bucked off?" Again, I nod in confirmation. Even though I wish _I_ had forgotten that. "Oh, and sword lessons with Dad and Uncle Chrom!"

She's smiling at me again. Her eyes are alive like purple flames dancing in her irises. She knows being forgotten had hurt me when she first came back. Morgan wanted to tell me this for a long time, I can tell. And now that she did, I can feel her just radiate happiness at me.

"So." Morgan speaks again, still hyped up from the little revelation she dropped on my head. She takes hold of both of my hands, looking at me like a love-struck puppy-dog. "Don't hate Brady, please? I swear he's the best boyfriend I could ever ask for!"

Damn it. She's giving me the look. I can't fight the look.

"Do you really love him?" I ask first and foremost. Another nod in response. "And you're sure he makes you happy?"

"I couldn't imagine being with anyone else, sis." She affirms, gaze hardening as her resolve leaks out.

"...Ok, _fine._ I guess I'm OK with this. But if he ever hurts you, I'm gonna kill him." I promise, my tone turning rather venomous at the end as I issue out my ultimatum.

I mean it to, I don't care if he's a Priest. If he hurts my kid sister, I will **end him.** And I'll dump him in Wyvern Valley to boot.

But my murderous thoughts are thrown out the window as Morgan lunges forwards, wrapping herself around me in a near bone-crushing hug. "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!" Gods, she really was worried about this. Is she that serious about him?

"Alright, alright! Now geddoff! I'm convalescing here!" She removes herself from me, not without a bit of a push from yours truly.

"Now. You tell me about that new husband of yours." She questions, bouncing up and down in her seat. "Oooooh, I want all of the details! What's his name? How did you meet? Is he a good soldier? Can he cook? He's really cute, too! So's that girl of his!"

"Girl of ours, Morg. She's my daughter. Like, actual daughter." This stops her bouncing, the tactician's mind breaking a bit as she tries to do the mental math to explain to herself why I have a teenage daughter only about ten years younger than me.

Waving my hand dismissively, I continue. "It's complicated. Space-time crap like when we came back. Again, I'll tell you later. His name's Subaki, we met after our Commanders joined forces. He's the best Pegasus Knight I've seen. Yes, tied with mother. Yes, where he's from men can ride Pegasi. No, he can't cook for his life. And… yeah, he's hot." That last part makes me blush with embarrassment. Talking about my spouse's finer features with people still weirds me out.

"And my apparent niece's name is…?"

"Caeldori. I named her after Mom, sort of."

"She's a Pegasus Knight too?"

"Mmhm. She really wants to fly again, actually. Think you could arrange that?"

Morgan strokes her chin, pondering the idea. "Probably… I'd need to ask Viron for one from his stables."

"Good. Do that now." I request, settling deeper into my bed. "Let me come with, actually. This bed's gonna drive me nuts."

"Not until you tell me what you were doing with those Valentians." Morgan affirms, digging her hands through her hip pouches once more and removing both a quill and a notebook from her side and flipping it open. judging from the angle I could see it from, she already has it the thing filled up half-way with other info. "There's gotta be something you can tell me now."

"Ugh. Fine. I'll tell you... three things. Then you let me go back to sleep. Got it?" I wait for Morgan's answer, but she doesn't reply. Fine, I'll take that as a yes. "They're lead by an old guy named Maddox. He's basically a walking, talking tank."

"Maddox, Maddox... oh!" Morgan snaps her fingers, before flipping back a few pages in the book and reading over an older passage. "Right, I uh... there's a few reports I've gotten about this guy. He wasn't a General in the last War, but he's apparently one of the survivors of the people who defended Rigel Castle."

"Uh... 'Rigel' Castle?"

"It's what they're calling Valm Castle now. Apparantly that's the old name." She explains, before flipping forwards to the empty page. "So what did you make of him?"

"Big, intimidating, and disturbingly charismatic. He basically turned a crowd of farmers and shop owners into a ravenous mob by yelling at them."

"Mmhm... and what about the Army he has?"

This time I sit up, throwing my legs back over and scooting forwards to sit myself next to my interrogator. "Normal Valmese set-up. He's got about... ten regiments with him? Spears mixed with light troops and missile companies. Plus at least three groups of mages." She pauses, looking to my left in surprise. "We went to their headquarters, they had a bunch of rosters all over the war-room. I memorized what I could at a glance."

"I'm uh... more surprised you even know what this stuff is. You _hate_ logistics and formations."

"Let's just say I've spent the past few years being forced to learn a few things." I grumble, thinking back to my time in Nohr. Being Lady Camilla's retainer, that also meant I had to be one of her Army's Captains. Which _also_ meant leading people, a lot. So I had to dust off a few books and relearn some battle-tactics and strategies. That's what I get for sleeping through Dad's lessons.

"Ok, ok. One last thing, and I'll get you a cane or... something." She promises, filling out the next page with information and speculation before looking back to me expectantly.

"They're planning on re-invading Altea." I explain bluntly, expecting some look of shock, worry, or fear. Instead Morgan snorts, grinning from ear to ear at the prospect.

"Figured. The Army they sent to Chon'sin's twenty-times the size of the one here. They don't send that much manpower just for a land-conquest."

"T-twenty times?"

"Don't worry about it." She says, way more nonchalant than I would've wanted to hear from her. "Listeeen, we came here for a reason. Say'ri can handle it! Chon'sin has a military again, plus a _really_ well armed civilian populace. They can hold off whatever these guys throw at'em, at least for a while."

"OK. Then what about Roseanne?"

"Uh..." Morgan shuts her book, laughing nervously. "Viron's got about uh... five regiments of troops?"

"So half of what's getting thrown at him." I point out. "Probably gonna be even more, they're still mustering troops back across the border."

"That's why I'm here, though!" Morgan shoots off quickly, popping up to her feet and shooting me a thumbs up. "I'm a miracle-worker, remember? Uncle Chrom knew Viron was gonna need help, so he sent us here a few months back."

"Great. Wonderful. I'm so glad you're taking up the mantle of both our overly-perfect parents." I mutter under my breath, extending my hand forwards and grabbing onto her shoulder to hoist myself back up. Ok, now I think I can handle standing. Walking though... we'll see. "Go get me a cane. And a robe." I request, releasing my grip on her. "Let's actually take a look at what Roseanne has to offer."


	8. C-7: Rose of Valentia

My memories of Roseanne were patchy at best. We had only spent a few weeks in Roseanne before continuing the campaign towards Valm. Most of that time I'd spent stuck in the back of a medical carriage, nearly having gotten my arm taken off by a horseman during the assault on the Mila Tree. My shoulder still stings whenever I remember that fight, but the scars have healed and I can swing a blade as good as I've ever been able to.

I can tell that the city used to be something beautiful. The architecture was something to marvel at. First the buildings were built into a strong base, then outwardly perfected to look as grandiose as possible without compromising their integrity. Pictures and portraits were etched into the dark stone walls. Images of animals, dragons, people and harvest bounties painstakingly created in permanent murals. Every home and shop seems encircled with trees and flowers, carts going back and forth across the roadways to offload their goods. The people seemed content enough, if not carrying their own scars beneath what I can see.

Still there's work to be done. Large craters are still all over the countryside, which I'm guessing are remnants of whatever siege-works Walhart brought with him on his little genocide run. The ruins of the old outer wall haven't been completely repaired yet, piles of rubble are still left separating what usable battlements there are. Even within the city, ruins still dot the streets. I can see a few vagabonds duck into one as the sun slowly begins to set once more over the horizon.

Only a few people are still walking through the streets at this time of day anyway. Night-Watchman starting up their patrols or kids running home after their stint at the schoolhouse. One or two farmers taking their haul back to their homesteads that surrounded the Capitol. Everyone looks so much older than they should, years of stress and suffering taking its toll on them. But they're still trying in spite of it all. Beaten but not broken. Seems like that's the common theme that I've seen through this place.

Gods, I spent too much time in that stupid hospital. It's turned me into a wannabe philosopher. My stay in the castle ended up taking a few days longer than I wanted, or anyone expected. Even after I left, I'm being forced to walk with this stupid cane and a chaperone. I feel like an old fart. I'm _thinking_ like one too. First chance I get, I need to find a practice dummy to slice in half. No more of this dainty patient nonsense.

Morgan's walking with me, both out of guilt for putting me in this position and trying to make up for lost time. For the first time since I came back I don't feel lost and confused, at least. I've been mostly brought up to speed on the world I live in again. Along with how everyone's managed to muck it all up after we spent two years cleaning it for them.

Caeldori's here as well, totally awestruck by the majesty of what surrounded her. It's her first time being in a proper city since we left Valla, and she apparently celebrated it by blowing all the gold we had left on her own personal shopping spree. Tempted to wallop her with my cane for that.

"Aunt Morgan, is Ylisstol anything like this?" She asked with more than a little bit of whimsy, still clutching a few of her shopping bags. Fabric, tools and accessories popped out from the top. Even a new scarf was wrapped around her neck, colored in red and white like her old Hoshidan armor.

Morgan snorted, tossing a piece of caramel corn into her mouth. Of course, she managed to snake her only niece into buying her a snack. Meanwhile I'm here still stuck on a soup diet. Maybe I should wallop _both of them._ "As if. Ylisstol is huge compared to Roseanne. Less uh… rubbly too. We've got shops and bakeries as far as the eye can see. It's like you died and went to snack heaven."

"Oooh. That sounds amazing!" The girl skipped for a moment, before facing me. "Mother, how long until we get to visit your home?"

"You're the ones who decided we're staying here to help 'Archery-man.' At this rate it'll be an entire year before we make it over." I point out, glaring over towards Morgan's bag of goodies. Slowly I reach my hand up for the top, the tactician in training's focus on the road ahead of her instead of the food in her hand.

"Aw come on. You wouldn't abandon your precious younger sister, right?" Morgan crooned, grinning madly as she tossed another treat in her mouth. Almost there, just keep distracting her…

"No, but she's more than happy to steal from you." Caeldori pointed out, her eyes beaming down at my hand just as I was about to grab a handful that was overflowing from the top. Morgan's hand suddenly shot down, smacking mine out of the way and shielding her bag.

"Gah! Traitor!" I cry out, sneering over at my daughter and shaking a fist. Morgan giggles at the whole scene, her only response involving her devouring more of the sweets. Caeldori just levels a tired glare at me, like she was _my_ mother scolding _me._

"Mother, the Priest clearly said that you aren't supposed to eat anything that could excite you. That includes sweets and desserts, as well as anything salty, spicy, difficult to chew, difficult to swallow, tangy or sticky." She explained, listing off my forced diet for the coming week. Suddenly I realize how the men in her squadron back in Valla must have felt like, having to take marching orders from someone this… stern.

"She really _does_ take after Mom, doesn't she Sev?" Morgan chirps, smiling at Caeldori before offering the remainder of the bag over to her. She gladly takes it into her grasp, letting her bags hang from her wrist as she devours the last of the popcorn. Ugh, my poor stomach is gonna hate itself… and it's not even my fault! Why do bad things always happen to me!? Was I Medus in a past life!? Did I have a full-time job kicking griffon pups!?

"She's just about as overbearing as her, that's for sure." I grumble, continuing to hobble down the cobblestone path back towards the castle off in the distance. 'Viron Keep', Gawds. Just when I thought that creep couldn't be any more self-absorbed. Even if it's the name of his house, you'd think he'd change it to 'Roseanne Keep' or something.

"Someone in this family has the be the responsible one." Caeldori shot back, finishing the bag and folding the thing up before slipping it under her belt. "How in the world was Grandmother so prim and proper, and you're both so… so… all over the place?"

 **"It's fun."** Morgan and I both answer in chorus, giving each other a high-five. Caeldori just sighs in embarrassment, focusing on the castle head instead of her two elders.

"Oh, Caeldori. That reminds me…" Morgan started, innocently holding her hands behind her back as her smile turned cheshire. "We've got a little present for you once we get back to the Keep."

"I thought we agreed to keep that quiet." I hiss through grit teeth, stumbling a bit over a hole in the road. Almost fall over, too, before Morgan manages to catch me. All the while the grounded flier peers over to us inquisitively. "Ugh. Fine, fine. Tell her."

Morgan releases me the moment I give her permission, and I almost fall over again. This time I right myself, putting a bit more pressure on my cane than before as I stare down at my feet. Why can't I even walk right?

"So." I hear Morgan begin. "Your mother told me that you're a pegasus rider. A half-decent one, too. Which is higher-praise than she's ever given me." I grumble something to myself, but Morgan ignores me and continues. "Soooo, I've decided that I'm gonna show you the ropes."

"The… ropes?" Caeldori replies in confusion, before her voice hardens a bit. "Aunt Morgan, I'm not some kind of recruit! I-I mean, I've got a lot to learn but, I'm a perfectly good flier!"

"I'm not going to teach you how to be a normal Knight, kiddo. If you're half the woman your grandmother is, you don't need my help with that." Morgan clarifies quickly. I can imagine her just rolling her eyes wide as she says those words. "I'm going to teach you how to be a Dark Flier."

"A dark… wha?"

Morgan coughs in her fist before she starts to explain, putting on her best 'Robin' tone. "So, in Ylisse we have three sections of Pegasus Knights. First are normal Knights. Rank and file, we give them lances. Then we have Falcon Knights. These're the older women in their Companies. They're given staves and usually double as the medics. Are you following?"

"Yeah. We had those back in Hoshido too. Except… well, men could be Sky Knights. And we had more than just a handful of companies."

"When we get back to Ylisse, don't tell MIriel about that. She'll bother you about Pegasus breeding and genetics." Morgan advises before wrapping up her explanation. "Anyway, last we have Dark Fliers. These're Pegasus Knights who're trained to use magic in a more offensive capacity. Usually the have arcwind or an elfire tomb."

"B-but I'm horrible with magic!" Caeldori protests. I finally lift my head away from my feet to see the look of anguish clear and present on her face. "Ask Mother! I can barely even use healing staves!"

"She has problems controlling her aura." I correct. "Which, much as I hate to admit it, your Aunt'll be a better tutor than I can be on that front."

"What was that?" Morgan questions, eyes fluttering innocently as she raises a hand to cup her ear. "Did I just hear the stone-cold Severa _admit she's not the best at something?"_ Little weasel's taunting me, great. I lift my cane up to poke her in the leg, but she dodges it pretty easily.

"Just-" I start, biting my tongue before I end up going off on a tirade. "Yeah. Sure. You're better with magic than I am." I once again force through gritted teeth, almost crushing my wooden cane in my grasp.

Morgan seems to enjoy the pain she's been putting me through, merely beaming over to her new pupil once again. "Listen. My Father taught me everything I know about tomes, magic and channelling. I'll show you the same! Besides, you've got natural talent in you! You'll be fine."

Caeldori didn't seem very convinced at the idea, eyes darting all over the place as we reached the castle gates. "I'll uh… I'm looking forwards to it, I suppose." She managed out before rushing up towards the entrance.

"Wow, she's shy." Morgan said, stopping to wrap my free arm around her shoulders and help me up the steps. "Kinda like you were before Mom and Dad croaked."

"Not all of us can keep smiling into oblivion." I answered with a bit more malice than I had hoped, Morgan's purple eyes flicking down to the stone in shame.

Still, she kept dragging me upwards, both of our boots clapping against the polished stone with each motion. "I just… it's nice. She's actually gonna have a childhood Sev. I wanna be there for that, y'know?"

As we reach the top of the staircase, she releases me from her grasp, giving my padded vest a few swipes before showing me that textbook Morgan smile. Even when the world was literally on fire around us, she still managed to keep this up. How? I'll never know. But I know that it was always enough to make me smile back at her, then and now.

I need to be hopeful. My daughter deserves a better upbringing than I had.

* * *

As we make our way into the main hall of the keep, we're met by a familiar scene. At least a hundred men, women and children sprawled across the vast corridor, mulling and pacing about. Most of the remaining homeless opted to remain within the Keep's walls, where they had a more stable roof over their heads and meals that they could more easily find. They paced about the area, speaking among each other or laying dormant in their makeshift tarp tents. A group of kids were kicking a small ball around one of the columns off to our side, with one of the guardsmen watching over with a smile on his face. A few of the castle's staff wandered back and forth, offering food to the citizens or cleaning up some of the refuse.

It was one of the many ways Virion tried to atone for leaving his home behind. Every man, woman and child in Roseanne was welcome to rest here until the city's reconstruction was complete. A few still-bitter persons remained outdoors, choosing to sulk in the debris they once called home. But most, slowly but surely, did seem to forgive the 'Archiest of Archers' for his flight.

One woman sticks out from the crowd, as she always has. Cherche marched back and forth, offering bread and bowls and broth to her new subjects. Every one of her motions was so graceful and smooth, whenever she spoke to the others she held such a kind smile. Whenever someone came to her with an issue, she seemed to make it her personal mission to fix whatever ailed them. If people ever began to squabble, she appeared out of nowhere to mediate the issue. Nothing, absolutely _nothing_ seemed to transpire in the castle without her knowing and acting on it. She really fit the role of Duchess well, anyone could tell she preferred it to fighting people.

"Bless you, Duchess." An old man croaks as he takes hold of his evening meal, shuffling back towards whatever resting place he claimed for himself. Cherche bade him a wave, taking a gentile pose before spotting Morgan and I advancing on her.

"I was wondering where you two were." She engages us with the same cheerful tone and smile, coming forwards and meeting us halfway. "Caeldori's already gone up to her quarters. Is something the matter?"

"She probably just wants to gush over her new stuff." I explain, deflecting the situation. Last thing I need is a Knight with a fire-breathing Wyvern trying to play family counselor with my impressionable teenage daughter.

"So that's what was in her bags…" Cherche says to herself, seeming to accept the explanation at face value. "Well, what about you Severa? Is our home up to your Altean standards?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?" I ask in a deadpan, feeling Morgan's gaze burn into my head. Like it or not, the city was still in pretty bad shape. The fact that a massive homeless-shelter existed behind us was just proof. "You're making due with what you have at least."

"You should be proud, Cherche. This time next year, everything'll be back to normal!" Morgan exclaimed, hair bobbing as she hopped in place. I just roll my eyes and lean further onto my cane, resisting the urge to gag. Why is she so damned peppy?

"I'm sure of it, Morgan." Cherche replied with a soft giggle, before her expression dropped ever so slightly. "Unfortunately, while I'd rather we discuss your time perusing the town, Viron's waiting for us in the Campaign room."

"Right, we need to get back to planning." Morgan gives me a soft nudge with her elbow, lifting her brow questioningly. "You're good to come with? Lotta stairs but you're kinda important to this whole thing now."

"Twist my arm, why dontcha…" I grumble, adjusting my stance before I begin to hobble off in the direction of the room in question. "Come on you too. It'd be pretty embarrassing if you both arrived after the cripple."

We walked off through the castle, a few maids and butlers passing by as we crossed over the courtyard from the main keep towards the guard barracks. A few of Roseanne's levies were practicing spars with each other, mostly toting spears along with a few bowmen and swords watching from the sidelines. Lightly armored as well, it seemed like most of the Militia was wanting for supplies. This new threat came at a rather poor time.

"They don't know, do they?" I ask as I watch one of the women tumble over during one of the brawls. Her partner laughed as he yanked her back up, both of them embracing each other once she stood up once more. "Viron hasn't told them."

"Until a week ago we still hoped the Valentians would leave us be." Cherche chimes, marching along stiffly ahead of us both now. "That scouting party, and the information you gave us realized our worst fears."

"It's gonna be hard to hold the territory with such a small number of men, your Grace." Morgan confers in an off tone of voice. Referring to Cherche by title was weird enough, hearing her admit the possibility of losing was almost out of character. "If your husband would listen, and just institute my conscription policy-"

"No." Cherche replied curtly, shaking her head as we approached the barracks. "Virion and I are of the same mind on this, we aren't drafting our people."

"Cherche, all due respect, I'm not sure you're gonna have a choice." I chip in, waddling behind through the uneven grass. Recently planted judging by how unlevel the dirt was, along with the patches inside. Walhart's army must've done a number out here as well. "We're already outnumbered two to one."

"Numbers do not win battles." The Knight points out, pausing in front of the barracks door before turning to face us both.

"But they definitely tip the scales." Morgan chides, evoking our father's old catchphrase. "Cherche, please. I'm amazing at my job, don't get me wrong, but even a miracle-worker needs something."

"There's a few other problems I've noticed, too." I look over my shoulder to the sparring ring, the group having broken up their practice and begun idley chatting amongst themselves.

The pink-haired noble didn't seem pleased at either of our points of view, but unfortunately for her reality didn't care about her feelings. Much as I enjoyed raining on everyone's parade, even this seemed like a situation we'd be hard pressed to fanagle ourselves out of.

Silently, Cherche opened the door and beckoned us inside.

* * *

I need to stop spending so much time in these war-rooms. When it came to battles, I was more of a 'stab bad guys in the face' kind of girl than anything else.

The room was intricate and ancient, clearly having been used by several generations of Virions before it's current master had taken the reigns. New maps of the Duchy lined the walls, having been marked up with Morgan's distinct handwriting to show points of defense and assumed lanes of assault. Mantles of armor and weapons hung from a few assorted pillars, each looking as old as Tiki. At the center was a war-table. Blue, green and red pieces strewn about positions to show known troop garrisons.

Virion didn't notice us walk in, too absorbed in a conversation with another pink-haired woman clad what looked to be the mix of an armored corset, shoulder-pads, and a long skirt worn under some metal framework. The head dress also gave it away, she was clearly a War Cleric. Why she was here, I didn't know.

Virion looks like a shell of his usual self. His long hair was disheveled and messy, the… whatever it is hanging from his collar was completely undone. Hell even his collar was screwed up, half-bent over. Bags seemed to hang from his eyes like weights.

"We've returned, dear." Cherche announces, looking across the table and beaming over to the woman that had been holding her husband's attention hostage. "Blanche, I hope the Duke hasn't been too much of a bother. Has he been offering you his 'Archery lessons' again?"

The Cleric snorted as she rested a hand on the table. "He knows if he tried, I'd chop him up and serve him to Minerva. And that's if you didn't find out first." The woman notes with an unnervingly sadistic grin. So much for the Libra type.

Normally this would be where I'd expect Virion to try and defend himself, but the loudmouth was instead focused on the war-table in front of him. He paces around Cherche, Morgan and me to adjust another piece down atop a hill.

Cherche's face flashes with a bit of sorrow, questioningly gazing over towards the armored woman of the cloth. Her face mirrored that of the Wyvern Lord, both uncomfortable and concerned at the silence that permeated the room. With a cough, the Duchess restarts the conversation. "Severa, this is Blanche. Brigadier of Roseanne."

I chuckle sarcastically as I place a hand on my hip, sizing the woman that stood in front of me up. "You put a nun in charge of your Army? I knew you were desperate but _come on_."

"Cousin." Blanche replies in a sickly sweet tone, a smile forming on her face as her interlaced fingers rest atop her stomach. "Instruct your friend to mind her tongue before I feed it to her." She threatens in a far too happy tone, as if she was talking about taking me on a picnic. I can even feel the blood drain from my face as the statement catches me off-guard.

Cherche merely laughed at the statement, making me wonder if she'd actually get a kick out of seeing me be force-fed my own tongue. Morgan chuckled nervously as well, pulling at her steel collar and leaning in close next to me. "You've seen what Aunt Lissa can do with an axe. She's basically like that times ten." She explains darkly, before straightening herself back up.

Don't mess with the crazy lady who has sharp objects. Good to know.

"But, yes. I'm the current Brigadier." She explains, her temperament and voice not changing at all. "I might not be a traditional knight like the Duchess, but we both were trained as Clerics when we were children. Except I didn't leave the priory to go ride monsters for a living."

"Best not hear Minerva say that, you know she's quite sensitive." Cherche advises, the picture of a rather enraged Minerva and an axe-toting Blanche already forming inside my head. Wonder how long a War Cleric can last in a ring with a two-ton flying death machine?

"Your overgrown lizard does not, nor will it ever frighten me." Blanche affirms, before adjusting her view back down to me. It finally dawns on me that she's far above my own height, rivaling Cherche and Virion's own with ease. Morgan and I feel tiny compared to the two. "But regardless. This is the famed second daughter of Robin I've heard so much about?"

"Wait, second?" I ask, my annoyance quickly overcoming my fear. "Why am I second!? I'm older than her! And I'm a better soldier, too!"

"Because I can tolerate her more than I can you." Blanche answers, still keeping that insufferable polite tone. Once again someone has to hold me back from jumping yet another woman who's rubbing me the wrong way.

"Blanche." Morgan interjects, keeping a firm grip on my arm. "Normally I'd be all for annoying my sister, but we have actual issues to address."

"No, by all means, continue. I want more reasons to shove my cane up your a-AGH!" Ow, ow, ow! My foot! The little twerp stomped on my foot! Crap, ass, damn, shit. **OW!**

"Behave." The tactician commands, clearly not having any of it now that we were discussing matters of importance.

I suck in a breath, shut my eyes, and try to focus before I explain everything that had happened while I was working for Maddox's forces. Number and make-up of units, tactics, supplies, morale. Anything I could think of that would affect the battle strategy. Blanche and Cherche listened, for what it was worth. Morgan drew out her notebook and scribbled some new blurbs in. Virion, still silent, had taken a seat at a desk and begun defacing another map.

"Basically we've got a wave of angry, fanatic idiots coming our way." I wrap up, having adjusted some of the red-pieces to show what and where the Valentian forces would probably advance from. "Light troops first, heavies second. Cavalry will likely come in from the flanks."

"They have numbers and equipment, but… their Officers and men seem extremely inexperienced." Morgan comments as she moves a few green pieces towards the Duchy's border. A color code had formed, red being Valentian troops, bleu being Roseanne's Militia and green being Ylisse's assisting forces. "Other than Maddox, did anyone really seem like they were used to warfighting?"

I shake my head, resisting the urge to smear that moron Beril while I had the chance. "No. Even his adjutants seem green as grass."

"We can work with that." Blanche points out, an idea forming in her mind. "We could use their numbers against them, try and force a chain-route."

"We'd need to their Commanders to pull that off." Morgan comments, drawing out a General's piece and holding it in her hand. "Valmese tactics usually involve their Commanders fighting with a group of bodyguards. Usually the toughest in their army."

"A group of fliers could ferry a squadron forwards." Virion finally calls, pacing over to the table and glaring down at the pieces that dot the forest.

"We only have three trained fliers." Morgan points out. "The Duchess, myself and Severa's daughter."

"We have my son and his wife." Virion replies lifelessly as he mentions Gerome and Cynthia, looking over to the Brigadier with sloth. "Whom should have arrived by now from Wyvern Valley."

"They should be here soon, your Grace." His commander answers with a bow, armored corsage bending at the hinge. "Sir Gerome and Lady Cynthia's last correspondence said that they had to take a detour."

"Cynthia prolly saw something and dragged poor Gerome off on a goose-chase to find it." I snigger at the thought, imaging the mask-wearing Wyvern rider wildly pursuing his ditz of a companion.

"That's only five of us, still." Morgan interjects once more, grumbling something under her breath. "I don't like it. Normally I'd want a squadron to handle something this touch-and-go. And putting one of the Duchy's leaders in harm's way-"

"If Chrom was willing to take the field of battle as your Exalt, we shall do the same for our own people." Virion cut in, his voice suddenly turning stone cold from the fatigued and broken state he had resided in since we arrived in the room. For the first time I could see a bit of life flash in his eyes. It was a sign that the old Virion I knew was still in there, somewhere.

"We've got a month until we need to deal with this." I point out with finality. "In the meantime we need to focus on preparing. And you need to take a load off, 'Your Grace'. Before you have a heart-attack from stress."

Cherche smiles at my words, pacing about and taking hold of Virion by the elbow. "I'll make sure he actually gets some rest." She promises, Virion opening his mouth the protest before his wife covered it with a hand. Weakly flailing, the blue-haired man is swiftly dragged out of the room. He's so out of it he can't even properly resist… how long has he been at this?

"Sev, I actually need your help." Morgan points out, finally letting go of me. "Well, your help. And Subaki's. And Caeldori's. Roseanne's troops are good, but once we get more volunteers..."

"They're gonna need an instructor." I finish for her, the redhead's nod confirming my train of thought. "Well I can't fight for a while, now. I may as well make myself useful somehow." Out of the corner of my eye, I can see the War Cleric fidget on the spot. "I'll treat them right, don't think I'm some sort of sadist."

Blanche's smile curls downwards as she looks to Morgan for confirmation, which the short-girl quickly offers out. "Severa's one of the best swords-women I've ever seen. And she's actually a sweetheart, if you ignore the way she loves to insult everything."

"So ignore her most prominent feature." Blanche notes with a grumble, sighing to herself. "Fine, fine. But I will oversee her."

Morgan nods in agreement, while I just grumble to myself. I guess I can add teacher to the list of jobs I've had in my life. Though why I need to have a babysitter again, I'll never know.


	9. C-8: Marital Counseling

In Nohr you rarely got to see the sun rise.

The weather usually had something to say about it. A convoy of storm-clouds pulled in across the skyline. Always took the sun and the light hostage, leaving everything below so cold and dark. Living in that Kingdom at first drove me nuts, it kept bringing back memories of the way Ylisse used to be. Sheets of soot and ash spread out as far as you could see, only a bit of light made it through only to make the world around us sanguine red.

Seeing the sun was a luxury, but going back to the past made me forget that. Out of all the things that could've spoiled me, it was the _sun_ that I started taking for granted. Nohr made me realize how much of a privilege it was all over again. For the longest time I'd refuse to even go to the surface, sticking in the underground cities and roadways that the Kingdom had developed. Anything to keep the old memories from coming back.

When we first marched on Hoshido, it was like stepping back into Ylisse once more. Green grass, lively animals, rays of sunlight all over. I remember the pit that formed in my stomach, thinking that it was a shame we were there to burn it all to the ground.

After that we tried to kill Corrin on those boats, the way the light bounced off of the ice and water. Flora's power still amazes me to this day, freezing an entire section of the ocean with ease like that. It was beautiful. Sad too, considering what we planned to do. But it all worked out in the end, thanks to Corrin's mercy streak.

Now here I am, still in the sun's domain. Sitting on this castle's roof as I see the orange orb slowly come over the bloodied horizon. Almost as if it's trying to tell me something. An omen for what's to come, maybe.

...Pfff, what a load of crap. Since when did I ever let fate decide what happens to me?

I'm not alone up here. My head's resting on top of my husband's shoulder. He looks just as pensive as I do, his perfect eyebrows furrowed together. Lips forming a terse line as his eyes scan the horizon. Even like this he still manages to keep up his effortless, perfect aura. Once you spend time with him though, you learn to catch a few of the cracks in his facade. Like how he blinks just a little bit quicker when he's nervous. Or how his finger traces a line back and forth in the palm of his hand. His breathing becomes slower too, I can feel his shoulder rise up and down at a steady and forced pace.

"You're worried." I say, breaking our prolonged silence. From the corner of my eye I can see him nod his head in admittance, prompting me to scoff and roll my eyes. "Well, you gonna tell me why or just hold me in suspense?"

He opens his mouth, then shuts it again. You can see his brain trying to process the right words for what he wants to say, as if he's been caught with no trousers on. "Do you… think we chose poorly? Staying here to help Virion, I mean. We could have just left for Ylisse and avoided another war."

"Since when did I marry someone who'd run from a fight?" I asked sarcastically, jabbing one of my fingers into his side and smirking at him. "Getting cold feet, Subaki? After Morgan's already commissioned us as her Captains?" Teasing him seems to work, at least a little bit. His breathing speeds up back to normal, his lips curling slightly into a smile.

But then they flip around, his head shaking as his freed hair waves down his back. My head lifts just as he turns to face me, taking a grip of my hand as he stares at me. "Selena. I need you to be honest with me. No sass, no snark. Do you feel like we pressured you into staying here?"

That came out of nowhere. The shock that's probably on my face lets him know that he's caught me completely off guard. "Ok, first of all, if you think either of you could force me into doing anything, you married the wrong girl." Subaki opens his mouth to respond, but I press my finger up against his lips. "Second, you don't get to ask me to not be snarky. Not when you've been strutting like a peacock again."

Flushing as red as our shared haircolor, Subaki's eyes shoot off to the side as he tries to regain some semblance of composure. He knows it's true, ever since he's been given an audience the vain dummy's been showing off to anyone and everyone who asks. Half the castle was already enamored with the mystery man who came from parts unknown. Publically he revels in it, but everytime I call him out in private…

Grinning from ear to ear, I pull my finger back and rest my free hand over his. "Third; no. I don't wanna risk you two again, but Viron needs _help._ He's my friend's father-in-law, and my mother would be livid if I didn't do something. Plus with my sister here, well... it's a good way for Caeldori to get to know my side of the family."

"Those two have been attached at the hip ever since we arrived, haven't they?" He observes, looking down at the courtyard stables. At the front we could see both of the girls in question, far out of earshot as they spoke in front of a blackened mount. Morgan's personal Pegasus, she named her Caeda after the old Altean Queen. Both of them seemed to be rather deep in whatever topic of the hour had come, hands waving with gestures to the pegasi, their weapons, the sky above and each other.

"Morgan told me she wanted to help give Caeldori a childhood." I explained, my own eyes darting down to view the two as what seemed to be Caeldori's form mounted the steed. "When we were her age, we never really had time to enjoy ourselves. So she's doing her best."

"At least they seem to be enjoying themselves." Subaki adds, grinning with pride as the girl kicked off and launched into the air for the first time since we arrived. Even from all the way up here we could hear Caeldori's cry of joy as she whipped up towards the sky. "Your sister's something else, you know that? Both of you act so differently, but you're still sisterly. Does that make sense?"

"I mean, I'd hope we act sisterly." I grumble in return, watching Morgan's pop up and down on the ground below as she signaled to the airborne rider. "She always took after our Dad more than I did, basically clung to his leg when we were growing up. Meanwhile I was stuck with _Mother_." The admittance feels like tar coming up my throat, shuddering at the thought.

"Why is it whenever you mention your mother you're either praising her endlessly or cursing her name?" He asks. "It's like you can't make up your mind if you love her or loathe her."

That statement's more on the nose than I hoped. "Can't I do both?"

"No Selena, most people don't do both. At least not with equal intensity."

"It's complicated." I say, trying to dismiss the topic from hand. "You try growing up under someone's shadow. Everyone always expected me to live up to her name, all the time. When I didn't, they talked like I was failing her personally. As if the only thing that should matter in my life was to be a copy of her."

"And that's her fault?" He asks, stunning me out of the blue like he always does. What's with the interrogation out of nowhere, since when did he get so picky with my childhood!? I don't bug him about _his_ relationship with _his_ parents!

"Yes! I mean, no! I mean, kind-of! I don't know!" I sputter out defensively. "Why're you even asking this? You didn't know what it was like when I grew up. Things were different!"

"Hrm. And I take it that I'll never get the full story about where you two came from? Even when I ask?" Subaki prods, taking his sight off of the two below us and gazing back at me. Whatever happiness we were sharing starts to shrivel up, the focus is completely off of the two beneath us now.

Without thinking I wither away from his grip, trying to build my wall back up before it comes all crumbling down. "It's-"

"Complicated, yeah." He finishes sighing in defeat as he turns back to look out over the horizon.

"I-I'm sorry…" I mutter out, feeling the warmth from before suck out of me and fly free in the early morning air.

"It's frustrating." He admits, his pensive disposition returning all over again. He never seems to get angry with me, just frustrated and disappointed. Which honestly makes me feel even worse, anyone else would just lose it after everything I've put him through. "I'm trying my best with what little I know, but you've never told me much of anything about your life before Nohr."

Another pit forms in my stomach, weighing me down against the stone we're sitting on. Have I really been holding out on him this long? Talking about my past was always hard to do, mostly because it was hard to explain. Being a time-travelling, world-crossing soldier was the sort of thing you only heard in fairy tales. If someone told me ten years ago that I'd do everything that I've… well, _done,_ I would've laughed in their face.

Still. That doesn't change much. Slowly, I take in a breath, steadying my nerves as I do my best to say what I can. My hands are shaking, just like when Caeldori asked me about my father in that dumb wagon we stole. "Yeah, yeah. I owe you an explanation, I guess. It's just… hard for me to talk about. You understand that right?"

"I just want to _know._ It's difficult for me to be a decent husband when you know everything about me, and I know next to nothing about you. _You_ understand _that,_ right?" Subaki states. Well, more like pleads. His voice strains with what I think is desperation. This really has been wearing on him...

Nodding, I open my mouth to begin. Better late than never.

* * *

My parents were both military figures in Ylisse. Growing up I had to spend most of my time playing with other kids like me instead of spending time with them. We had this big house out in the country, a gift that Lucina's father had given mine after the war with Plegia. Half the time we weren't there through, a lot of my early memories were filled with sleepovers in Ylisstol's castle.

Mother was legendary growing up. The entire world knew about the Knight-Captain Cordelia. The red-haired valkyrie who danced across the sky with such grace on her white steed. The pinnacle of perfection, everyone always called her. Smart, kind, clever, beautiful, skilled. No one could find anything wrong with her, the entire world looked up to her. She was just a paragon of everything right in the world.

Father was of the same caliber. Grandmaster of Ylisse, the Haildom's chief tactician and the Exalt's personal advisor. Robin was every bit as famous as his wife, and every bit as lauded. My father always carried himself a lot differently than my mother. While she was more outgoing, he kept to himself and his books. He was more openly cynical of the world around us, never one to trust things at face value.

My little sister took after Daddy rather quickly. As soon as she could walk and talk she forced herself under his wing. Of course she turned out to be a prodigy on top of that. Every bit as intelligent as Dad was, probably a bit more. Day after day of studying, practicing, training. Everything just came so easily to her. Swordplay, tactics, magic, riding. Every good trait that our parents had just concentrated itself into her.

Then there was me. The disappointment.

Mom and Dad never called me that. Doubt they believed it either. Much as I hate to admit it, both of them really were the best parents you could ask for. Whenever they weren't working, they were with us. Playing, teaching, providing. Making Morgan and I the center of their worlds. It was nice. Things were set up to be a pretty much an idyllic childhood.

I guess that me being a complete screw-up only that much harder. Even before Morgan fell under Dad, I naturally gravitated towards Mom. But try as I did, I couldn't ever live up to Mother's legacy. Sure, I could ride a pegasus and swing a lance. I could lob around fire from a tome and use a stave. Even with a sword I ended up surpassing Morgan by a country mile. But it was still never enough, I was only just Severa. Nothing special, not a prodigy or a genius. Just a kid who seemed to miss all the natural talent from both of her parents.

But the best part about being a kid was that it didn't feel like it _mattered_. I could just be myself, do what I liked and not care for it. I had my parents, my sister, my friends. A nice home to grow up in and never having to worry about going hungry. Everything was perfect.

Things changed when father died, though.

Morgan was still so young when it happened, I'm not sure she completely understood it. The older she got, the more she'd forget about him. More and more of what she knew about him was stories other people told her. I think that's what really drove her to follow him like she did. Not who Dad was, but the fairy tail he transformed into.

I was eight when word got to us, but I was old enough to not believe it actually happened. My father was supposed to be untouchable. Sure, he was a tactician first, but short of Chrom and Lon'qu he was the best swordsman in the Shepherds. Unlike either of them, he knew how to use magic too. Even dark tomes, most mages in Ylisse avoided them like they were the plague. Some of them probably **did** cause plague. The idea of him dying was impossible.

But out of us all, Mother really did take it the worst. Thinking back on it, it was foolish of me to think she ever married Father out of circumstance. His death destroyed her from the inside out. She just buried herself into her work. Day in and day out, dealing with the Risen as they appeared. Fighting bandits, going off galavanting with Chrom. Her work replaced her family. Trying to fill the void my stupid old man left by dying.

One day I finally lost it and started screaming at her. Right as she was walking out the door to go off on some new mission Chrom had sent down from on high. Cursing her for every reason I could think of. Shunning me away in place of her job, dedicating herself completely to a married man who would never see her the way she once saw him. I hated it, I hated **her** for everything that had happened. I told her that she loved Chrom more than she loved me. I didn't know what she was even fighting for anymore.

All she did was stare at me. Her eyes had long since lost the spark I grew up idolizing. The mother I knew was gone, lost to the sorrow of being a young widow. But in that brief moment, she came back. She placed her hand over her finger and slipped off her wedding ring, a white-gold band with a shining ruby sitting at the top. Carefully she took my hand, opened it, and placed the ring in my palm. She smiled at me, the only time she ever smiled since we received the news. She promised me that she was fighting for someone special to her. Then she wrapped her arms around my shoulders and embraced me. I didn't return it, I was too angry and confused to care.

With that, she walked out the door and left me. Standing there, staring at her back with tears running down my cheeks and a piece of jewelry in my hand.

She never came back. The Risen killed on that last campaign for the Haildom.

And all I had left was her ring and the guilt of my final words.

Things only went from bad to worse after that. The Risen started to overrun the continent. Chrom was killed by someone who I'd later find out to be my Grima-possed Father. All of the Shepherds were killed off until it was only the kids left. Each of us with a legacy to carry on our shoulders. But I could never live up to mine. My mother's shadow only grew after her death, and so did everyone's expectations of me. Expectations I tried… I _**try**_ to meet everyday. Just to live up to her name. Maybe then she'd finally be proud of me, and I could stop hating myself for what I told her.

Lucina was only fifteen when she was made Exalt. By that point half of Ylisse was gone, the Risen were getting closer and closer to the Capitol. Morgan stepped up to be her personal tactician, I took my place as her personal retainer. Her older advisors said I was a horrible choice. Just a loud-mouthed brat who wasn't half the knight her parents were. But she chose me. She had faith in _**me**_ , out of everyone else.

It still wasn't enough. Three years of nonstop fighting later, Grima still made it to Ylisstol. The entire city burned, almost everyone inside perished. Morgan, Gods we thought she died in the city's fall. The rest of us just ran to Mount Prism. When Naga told us about going back into the past, I didn't want to do it. It felt like we were running away. If we left, everyone we knew would die. Lucina and the Falchon were the last chance of saving our world.

Still, Lucina chose to go. And I followed her, like any good knight in shining armor would. Just like Mom did with Chrom. I followed my Exalt even when it would probably kill me. In the end, I guess I really did act like her daughter.

My last thoughts drifted to mother when I stepped through that portal. Did she ever have doubts? Following the man who'd gotten the love of her life killed? Everyone knew it wasn't his fault, but did she blame him? Just a little? Did she ever question her place in the world like I did?

Maybe she did. Maybe deep down she wanted to just give up and let the world fall apart. Let Chrom fall and spend her last days with her family.

Or maybe it's just where my family belonged. At the sides of Ylisse's leader.

* * *

After baring all to Subaki, I ran back down to our room and passed out until noon. Talking about the past was nothing short of exhausting, even when I didn't have to move an inch.

Gods, I feel like a wreck. Even when I'm just lying here and staring up at the stone. Every single time I think about the way things used to be it happens. Why is it so easy for me to fall apart like this? I'm not the only person in the world who's gone through bad stuff. I know that the others handle this so easily. So why can't I, damn it? After everything I've seen and done can I really not move on?

My head's banging like a drum. Five hours of shut-eye and I still don't feel any better. I thought sleeping was supposed to be relaxing, not mind-rattling. Ugh… ok, ok. Get up out of the bed. One leg, two legs… good! Woah, ok. Steady, stay on your feet. Where's that cane? I know I put it- oh crap, it's by the closet. Why did I put it by the closet?! You know what? Forget it, I don't need a dumb stick to help me walk.

Right. So far so good, I'm out of my room and at the stairs. Just need to make my way down a couple of flights. Shouldn't be that hard. Just go slow, one step after the other.

One, two, three, fou-

" **AAAH!"** I yelp out as I slip, landing on my hip and crumbling on the stone. I don't roll down at least, just lay there limply as I try to prop myself back up with my elbows. Over the ringing of my head I can hear a pair of feet rushing up the spiral towards me. Looks like someone was waiting for this to happen. Great, I love looking like a fool.

I manage to edge myself over to the wall of the staircase, resting against it and muttering curses under my breath. I swear I'm gonna get Morgan for this. When are my legs finally going to work the way they're supposed to again? It's been two weeks since I got zapped, this shouldn't be permanent. Right? _Right?_

I'm so deep in my own self-pity that it takes something grabbing me and dragging me up to shake me out of it. I look to see that my guardian angel is no one other than my ever punctual husband, shining his ever so _perfectly punchable_ smile down at me. As if he has something to smile about.

"Of course you didn't use the cane like the Priests told you too." He observes, guiding me upwards back towards our room as I press my hand against the wall to my right.

"Eat dirt, ponytail." I spit back, shoving him away from me as we make it back to the door of our quarters. He's laughing at me as I limp in, grab the cane, and hobble back out, still keeping up that self-assured grin. With a flash of my middle finger and a glare, I start to make my way back down the staircase.

"Well someone seems cranky." Subaki calls as he makes his way to my flank, keeping pace with my slowed movements as we make our way down. "Dare I say that's the first time I've ever seen you make such an _obscene_ gesture. Is your lady-like demeanor crumbling so quickly?"

"I dunno, Subaki. Did Niles' sadist streak rub off on you?" I query as we reach the bottom of the spiral, walking our way down a straight hallway with another flight at the end.

"You've laughed at graver injuries sustained by others, Selena." He countered. "I should be the one asking you that."

"That's different, those were nobodies!" I protest ferferently, throwing my free hand up into the air as I speak "I'm your wife! You're supposed to treat me like a princess and cater to my every whim!"

All he does is roll his eyes, wagging a finger back and forth. "You're describing a butler, not a spouse. Perhaps you should have married Jakob if those were your desires."

That little comment just gets me to gag out of reflex. "Ugh, _no._ Not even as a joke. Nothing could get me near that jerk. He'd rather get under my skin then cater to my whims."

Subaki tuts and shakes his head, still maintaining that infuriating smile. "Hm, what a shame. Seems you're stuck with me then." He finishes, clearly pleased with himself as I groan in defeat. "I'm just glad I was there to help you, Morgan warned me that you would try to venture off without a guide."

"I'm. Fine." I force out through gritted teeth, my ungloved hand gripping the handle of my walking-stick with a disparate amount of force.

"No, you aren't. If anything I should be taking you back down to the castle's hospice so you can be treated further." As we reach the staircase, he moves down a step and offers me a hand down the steps. "Now, swallow your pride and let me help you. Unless you'd like to trip yourself down another flight?"

"Gods, I can't stand you…" I grumble out, lifting my hand up and taking ahold of his before we start to move down the next flight. "Thanks, I guess."

"You're welcome, my dear." He answers with a soft bow of his head. "And thank _you_ for answering my questions about your past. I realize that it was taxing."

"I'm not the first girl to suffer, I won't be the last." I dismiss cleanly, recalling my earlier train of thought and moving down with a renewed urgency as he brought the conversation from the morning back to the forefront. "It's not an excuse and it isn't a crutch."

"Hm. Perhaps." He concedes. "Or perhaps you're viewing it the wrong way."

"What do you mean 'the wrong way'?" I reply, grip tightening around his hand as I almost lose my footing "I have issues, I need to deal with them. And I need to stop shoving my problems onto other people."

"One, you're not shoving them onto others. I explicitly asked you tell me. Two, that's not what I meant." He continued to explain as we reached the bottom of the stairs, halting so that I would heed his words. "Wounds can be mental as well as physical. A scar in your mind can be more damaging than, say, a scar on your back."

"How topical of you." I growl out dryly, annoyed at his reference to my disability. "But what are you getting at?"

"The only way you'll be able to come to terms with this is if you stop feeling weak about your trauma. Physical and mental." He continues. "In Hoshido we tried to help people in your position through Monks and meditation-"

"I'm not sitting on my arse and 'clearing my mind' before you try and suggest that."

"Let me finish." He orders, before taking a breath. "Confiding in people may help you come to terms with what happened. It might let you finally be at peace."

"Oh, yeah. That's a great idea." I agree sarcastically, waving him off and wandering my way towards the main hall of the castle. "Tell everyone about my horrible childhood. Throw a pity party for poor old Severa. Or Selena. Or whatever they'll call me. Little Miss Brain Damage would probably be my new nickname."

"You're being crass." Subaki answered, rushing forwards to reach my side once more. "And no, I'm not saying to tell everyone. Just people you trust. Like myself, Caeldori, your sister and friends…"

"Not happening. I'm not turning myself into a festival sideshow. Having people roll up just to hear the freak whine."

"So you'd rather bottle this all up instead of try and heal?"

For the first time I actually feel envious of Morgan. Even with her memories partially restored she can't remember the worst parts of our past. Blissful ignorance, maybe that's why she's able to keep up such a peppy attitude. "Short of losing my memory, I doubt I _can_ heal. It's part of who I am."

Ever persistent in his endeavors, Subaki keeps pressing the issue even after my prolonged protests. "And it always will be, I know enough about war to understand that much. But if you keep on like this it won't be part of you, it will _define_ you."

A roll of the eyes. "And talking to people will fix that?"

A shake of the head. "Talking to people will let you process it. Hopefully it will also teach you that acting brave isn't the same as actual bravery."

"You really want to be smacked today, don't you?" I ask, half hoping I'm given an excuse to do just that.

"What I really want is my wife to stop acting like this is something to be ashamed of. You're no fool, you know everything I've said is right." Silently, I just keep moving forwards, about to walk into the main hall before his arm pops out in front of me and forces me to stop in my tracks. "Just; promise me at the least, whenever things become too much, you know I'm by your side. Alright?"

He really isn't going to let me off the hook for this, is he? No, of course not. He has that determined glare aimed down at me. It's the same look he has whenever we're about to get into a scrape. How annoyingly resolute of him.

But at least it's nice to know someone cares. I suppose married people should rely on each other. "...Fine. If I ever think I'm about to lose it, I'll find you. Alright?"

With that, Subaki smiles and lowers his arm. "Wonderful. Now, can we go into town and find some lunch? I was waiting for you and I'm rather famished."

The voices of the homeless residence behind the door echo out to us both before I can reply. Followed by a loud crash as something falls harshly to the ground. Both of us force the door open to look inside, trying to see what was happening beyond.

The normally peaceful hall had devolved into a brawl between the guards and civilians against a group of hooded figures rushing forwards through the keep. Five of them to be precise, each of them attempting to shove and cut their way through their obstacles.

I sigh in defeat as the new problem falls in our lap. "Well, so much for lunch."

* * *

 _ **Two weeks, summer finals, new work schedules and wrestling with my writer's block later; we return.**_

 _ **I'd like to once again offer my gratitude for all those reading. When I submitted this story I expected it to go under the radar and maybe get a handful of people interested. Now the series is already nearing 5,000 views and a decent following. It's... humbling and inspiring, to say the least. I hope I can keep providing entertainment for all of those at home.**_

 ** _Sorry that it's taken so long to update this, but better late than never I suppose! Now I can get back to cracking out these chapters. But first some replies to a few reviews;_**

 _ **Guest 16: Plegia can't can they? ;)**_

 _ **H. Uzumaki: Again, thank you for the comprehensive review. It's my goal to try and have all the characters present to be personified well, but I can slip sometimes in that goal. Practice and repetition for improvement.**_

 _ **Red-Guest00: Very glad you're enjoying the story! Seeing that my tall tale's gaining readers does fill me with a decent bit of pride, I'll admit. I'll give one small hint to your comment though, one part of the pairings/parentage you mentioned is on the nose for what I have planned.**_

 _ **Dracofighter: In rereading my older chapters I've realized I've used the term 'Altea' where I meant to say 'Archenea.' Altea is an outdated and non-existent term so, a bungle on my part.**_

 ** _o/_**


	10. C-9: Blood on the Risers

Subaki takes a flask off of his hip, tossing to me before he darts in the direction of the oncoming brawl. I catch it pretty easily, somehow don't even manage to drop the thing before pulling the cork out and giving it's contents a whiff. The stench makes me want to wretch, it's like someone mixed rotten eggs with month-old fish. Still, I bring it to my lips and drain the liquid inside before my stomach overpowers my brain.

Vulnerary. Gods, it tastes horrible going down the hatch. But it'll be enough to let me fight, at least for as long as I need to.

The potion goes work pretty fast, my the tension I'd felt in my back melts like butter in a hot pan. For the first time in what seems like forever, I feel almost like myself. Still a bit stiff, my spine stings as I try to stretch myself out, but better than the past few weeks. I take my walking stick up with a single hand, holding it like a club and pacing my way forwards through the stampeding crowd. Even with the medicine in my system I need to be careful, one wrong move and I just might making my injury even worse than it was before.

Turns out the big fight isn't all that big, in fact it's really just three smaller ones mixed into the panic.

At the far left is a one of the infiltrators grappling with a guard, both of them fighting over the soldier's spear like two pigs in a mud-pit. Subaki runs to the center of the room, tearing another cloaked man off of an injured townie who bit off more than he could chew. A bit off from him is a third brigand, he's already being dog-piled by a bunch of the hall's denizens. The close right has a pair of kids trying to help up a wounded guard, what looks to be a long knife punching out from her shoulder and red dribbling out onto the ground beneath her. The rest of the room is filled out by people either too weak or too scared to throw themselves into the mix.

One of the five were already missing from sight, but I don't have time to worry about them now. There were other guards around, and the people in front of me needed help.

The kids, Severa. Save the kids and the girl.

As I make my approach towards the kids, the assassin draws another knife out from beneath their cloak. One of them, a boy with cropped hair, stands in front of the fallen guard with arms outstretched. He's trying to be a hero and he doesn't even look ten. All the while the girl is trying to pull the fallen soldier back up to her feet. You can hear the groans of effort as she struggles to stand her up straight.

Their attacker's still advancing, step by step as they bring their knife up and get ready to plunge it into the boy.

Unfortunately, they weren't paying attention to the angry redhead with a big wooden stick coming up from behind.

The first time I strike, Im trying to knock them out. It didn't work, instead my target just fell on their knee.

The second time I'm going for the side of their head, that one sends them sprawling onto their back.

The third time is to keep them down. I keep telling myself that I can't let him hurt anyone else.

Then I strike a fourth time. Then a fifth, then a six, a seventh… I just keep hitting again and again. Watching someone draw a weapon on children just triggered something inside me, sort of primal anger. Or maybe my new maternal instinct was showing itself. Now that I had a kid of my own, seeing any child at the business end of a blade sets me off. At least, that's what I'm telling myself is driving this beating.

All I know is by the time I was done, my brown wooden cane has a thick coat of fresh red paint. So does the cobblestone surrounding my unfortunate opponent. Their jaw was less broken and more _powderized,_ bone and teeth sticking out helter-skelter. Same with their nose, too. Their chest is still moving, means I didn't kill them. Still, I went way too overboard. Doubt this poor dastard's ever going to be able to eat again.

As I get up from my display of force, my eyes focus upon the three people I intervened to save. The guardswoman's just leaning up against a column, the knife's still in her shoulder. But her eyes are wide with either shock, awe or fear. Hell, it's probably all of the above. The boy had already run off, where to I didn't know. Meanwhile the girl was just staring at the gnarly mess I'd made.

I grab the cloak off of what's left of the man and toss it over his mouth, the fabric turning crimson as it absorbed the red that poured out. The scene was a little less horrific now. Both here and in the rest of the hall. From the corner of my eye I could see Subaki tying his opponent like a wild boar, Gods knows where he found the rope. In the far distance the soldier had long-since sent his polearm through the final infiltrator's chest, whatever life was once in his body having disappeared. And the fourth guy? He was already being dragged into the center of the hall, head limply hanging down.

So I pace myself over to the wounded woman, groaning as I can already feel the stress affecting the small of my back. Once again the little girl's head adjusts, this time ogling me with the same blank fear that she had ogled the half-dead body behind me. Silently I lift a finger and point towards the door, mouthing the word 'Cleric'. She seems to comprehend, slowly nodding before rushing off to and through the exit.

All that's left is to try and help this woman. As I take a knee, I absorb her appearance into memory. Long green hair with complimenting blue eyes, a kettle hat resting on her head along with her lavender cloth and steel cuirass. Blood's dripping from the side of her mouth, but I doubt it's anything internal. The dagger didn't hit an artery, or else she'd have a lot more sanguine pouring out from her.

"I'm gonna skip asking if you're OK and just assume you're not. Sound good?" I ask dryly, taking her helmet off and tossing it over to the side. That seems to snap her out of her daze enough, she's at least laughing at my bad joke. I start to pat her down, looking for some kind of medical supplies on her person. "Gotta admit this is pretty embarrassing. Having your butt saved by two kids and a hospital patient."

"Please. Woulda wiped the floor with'im if y'all didn't get in my way." She quips, getting a few more chuckles out before wincing as I take hold of the knife's handle. "Ow! Hey, easy! I don't wanna end up like that fella!" She requests, laughing again as her head just rests against the steel column. I'm already starting to like this girl, she's got a good attitude.

"Well, glad you got a front-row seat to see my handiwork. Always like to entertain the lazy." Out of the corner of my eye I can see she's going to answer back, that's when I rip the blade out of her quickly. A quick, sharp cry shakes the room around us before she pipes down again. Meanwhile I just drop the weapon to the ground and return to patting her form down for supplies. "Don't you Roseanne types keep vials on you?"

"Concoction's on the other hip, ma'am." She huffs out, pressing her hand over the now open wound. Like I figured, it's not leaking too bad. Dagger ended up going up against the bone more then slicing through tissue.

With a grunt, I slip a hand to the other side and take the flask off from her belt. Without my asking she pops her mouth open. I pour half of the stuff into her mouth, then the other half down into the wound after I move her hand. "So, do you have a name? Actually, no. I'm gonna call you pincushion, it seems to fit."

Another snort, before yet another reply. "Gwen, ma'am. Short fer Gwendolyn."

"Sounds familiar." I note, placing the now empty flask on the ground before I draw my own dagger and start cutting the cloth away from the injury. Give the skin more room to breath, and less of a chance for infected blood to seep back into the gash. "I'm-"

"Cap'n Severa. I know." She finishes for me, smacking her lips together. "I was one-a the soldiers who done dragged ya back to the prison carriage."

"Riiight, that's where I remember you from. You're the smart-alec who said they were going to drown me." I grumble, sheathing my weapon and sitting myself down next to the wounded warrior. She spoke like a farmgirl, acted like a common thief and dressed like a soldier. Interesting combination.

"Hey now, I said I was gonna _let_ you drown. Not drown ya. Big difference." She points out, grinning shamelessly at me as she returns to putting pressure up against the wound itself. "In my defense, no self-respectin' girl wants puke all o'er her uniform."

"Uh huh." I deadpan, hands resting in my lap. Again I check to my side so I can see what's going on. The rest of the hall's residents have recovered from the shock, clearly avoiding my gore-splattered spectacle and gravitating towards helping the old woman and Subaki. A few even went over to the far end of the hall, trying to assist the other guard. "Well at least you know I'm your new boss."

"Technically, you ain't. My boss is Miss Blanche, even if she is more religious folk then soldier." Gwen chimed, going out of her way to correct every detail I said. For a hayseed, she seemed smart enough. Even if she was lacking in the tact department. "But you still outrank me, so I'll call ya Cap'n. Fer now."

"I'm touched." I grumble, my head shooting up as the doors behind us burst back open. The girl from before rushes forward with a pair of healers. The boy's back as well, he's joined by a trio of new guards as they move to secure the room and pacify the crowd. Sensing my work was done, I grabbed hold of my cane and started wiping the handle clean.

The smell of iron danced up into my nose, another grim reminder of what happens when I lose my temper. Something was stirring in me still, long after the action had subsided. Like a fire in my stomach whenever I got sent into combat. It felt… _good._ Just clobbering that idiot into paste. It was wrong, but it still felt so fun. I felt alive, happy even. Like I had just won a foot-race and I was still in my runner's high.

"Something funny?" A voice said, shaking me out of my own thoughts. Subaki wanders over, clapping his hands together to get rid of whatever grime was plastered on his gloves after the brawl. "Your cane's covered in… is that _**blood?"**_ He exclaims, the red dribbling down the side of my walking aid and dripping down onto the floor.

"Not mine." I point out, continuing the scrub the thing clean before using it as it was intended once more. "I don't have my sword, remember? I made due."

"Rinkah would approve, I suppose." He grumbled as he involved the club-brandishing tribal's image, before gesturing to the exit out to the courtyard. "Come, Caeldori is waiting for us."

"What." I nearly stumble over myself. "Why?"

"Because that wasn't the only group of assailants who made their way in here. She and Morgan dispatched another gaggle attempting to enter via the rear." He clarifies, holding the door open so I could slip through it. My muscles were starting to ache all over again, sooner or later the vulnerary was going to wear off. Then I wasn't going to be much use in a fight.

We make our way outside to the courtyard, the two fliers in question standing at the ready in front two mounts. The black one is Caeda I think, the white one I've never seen before. Caeldori's got her hands on its snout, petting it softly. In her own world again, daydreaming about pegasi.

"How's the hall?" Morgan asks immediately, looking over our shoulder at the exit we just left from.

"One got away." I point out immediately, moving past my sister at a brisk pace and tapping Caeldori on the shoulder. As my daughter snaps around, I let my still stained cane fall to the ground and hoist myself up onto the saddle.

"And what exactly are you doing?" She questions. Well, more interrogates. One day back at flying and she's already gotten overly protective of the horses. Wonderful.

" _We_ , are gonna scan the compound for our missing crook." I clarify, scooting backwards enough to give Caeldori room to take control.

"You think he didn't try to flee? We already caught all of his other friends." Morgan chimes as she moves over to mount her own steed, taking the reigns and giving them a tug. Caeda starts flapping her wings softly, preparing to launch herself into the sky. "I take it you handled the guys in the hall?"

"Captured three, a guard killed the fourth." Subaki informs, before spinning about. "Speaking of which, I'll go bring our guests somewhere where Cherche can have a few words with them when she comes down." With that, before I could agree or disagree with the idea, he already took off back to the hall. Seems he still hasn't learned from when we came back to this world.

"I suppose that means he's letting us girls do the heavy lifting? I guess chivalry really is dead." Morgan quips, pausing in a hover above us for a brief moment. "I'll check the city from the sky! You and Caeldori check out the keep!" She instructs. Then, just like Subaki, _she_ takes off before I can voice any protest. A plume of black feathers swirling around.

Seriously, what am I? Chopped pig's liver?

"Suppose that's just us, then." I growl in annoyance, much to my daughter's amusement as she mounts our ride. We're airborne in a second, already shooting up into the air above the castle at a breakneck pace.

* * *

I can't even remember the last time I've ridden a Pegasus like this.

Well, I can. Though I _wish_ I couldn't.

It was back in my timeline. I was still trying to join the pegasus knights. At that point Mom and Dad had both been dead for years. Morgan was already making a name for herself in Ylisse, everyone thought she was Robin's perfect little prodigy. She already proved herself to be a scarily capable tactician, and she was only _ten._ Meanwhile my fifteenth birthday passed and still wasn't showing much promise.

The Pegasi hated me. Every time I ever tried to get on top of one, it'd be like trying to tame them from the wild. Didn't matter which one I rode, what time of day, what style I tried to use. They never listened to my commands as well as they should have, I had to fight them on the ground and in the air. More then once I almost fell to an early death trying to get them to do as I wanted.

It wasn't like I didn't know why. Pegasi were extremely in tune with the feelings of the rider. If you were happy, they were happy. Sad? They felt your sorrow. Scared? They wouldn't move an inch until you calmed yourself down. Mad? They'd refuse to even let you get near them, like you were plague ridden.

And I was mad then. At everyone.

Mad at my parents for dying. Mad at Morgan for showing me up at every little thing. Mad at the world for forcing me to take Mother's place. Mad at myself for constantly failing my family again and again.

Hell I was even mad at Lucina. Her father was the reason my parents were dead, they both died **serving him**. It wasn't her fault, she loved my parents almost as much as I did. They were like an aunt and uncle to her. But Chrom had been dead for years at this point, and I needed a new target for my ire. Back then, kicking Cynthia around felt like smacking a puppy.

But Lucina? The perfect, smart, pretty Princess of the realm? Well, she reminded me just a bit too much of the man who cost me everything. Friend or not, it wasn't something I could easily forgive.

It was just another night in the outskirts of Ylisstol. I was wrestling another new mount that Cynthia had let me borrow from the stables. We left at dusk, when half the sun was still visible. The moon was high in the air at this point, and I was covered in a new swath of cuts and bruises. Another night of failure.

Just when I was about to try and lead us back to the city, I could hear something approaching.

My first instinct was Risen, they were making deeper incursions into the Halidom every day. I drew my sword out, stepped between the sound and my horse, and kept the tip aimed forwards. Sure, I couldn't ride a Pegasus properly yet, but I knew how to handle a blade better than most.

To my surprise, it wasn't that at all. It was a certain blue-haired princess, way too far out from her throne.

"Wh-?" I started exclaiming, freezing in place before I sheath my weapon. My surprise was quickly overtaken by both fear and worry. I went forwards, grabbing her by the scruff of her cape and pulling her back over towards my mount. "Are you daft, Lucy!? What in the world are you doing out here!?"

"Looking for _you_." She pointed out, grabbing hold of my hand and yanking her cape free of my grip. Her eyes pierced through me, even when she was younger she had that same commanding presence that her ancestors developed. That brand in her eye burned through me, keeping me still as she retorted. "Do you see how late it is? Cynthia's worried sick, Morgan wanted me to send a search team before I left!"

"Then maybe you should've listened to her?" I shot back, resting a hand on the hilt of my blade as I scanned our surroundings. Risen could pop out from anywhere, having the soon-to-be Exalt out in the dark like this was beyond idiotic. "You went after me alone. Do you have a death wish?"

"I should be asking you that!" Lucina answered, a vein pulsing from her forehead. "This isn't even the first time you've done this! For Gods' sake, Severa! You can't keep training into the dark like this!"

"In case you forgot, 'your grace', **we're in a war.** " I point off into the horizon behind us, away from Ylisstol and off towards what was sure to be a horde of Risen somewhere on the continent. "The living dead are literally coming to kill us! I can't protect the country if I'm not ready!"

"Are you-" My opponent cuts herself off, taking in a long breath to try and calm herself. "Severa, you're no use to anyone if you get killed. Think of how Morgan would react. Or Cynthia. Or me!"

"Why the hell do you care?" I dismissed, turning around and mounting my pegasus. I slipped my feet into the stirrups, taking both of the reigns into my hands. "I'm just the orphan of a few dead Army officers. You're Royal of the whole nation. Get your priorities straight."

"My friends are always one of my priorities." She affirmed, hand tightening around the grip of Falchion. She was still training with the damn thing, and it already looked natural on her hip even back then. Gods. "Now, can we please go home?"

With a roll of the eyes, and an extension of a hand, I allowed it. Pulling the woman up and letting her sit behind me. When her hands wrapped themselves around my waist, I could feel my cheeks flare up a deep red. Lucina always emanated warmth from her, that aura made so many people always want to follow her into oblivion. I wasn't much different, my emotions around her were a mess _before_ Mom and Dad died. After that, every time I saw her my gut split in half..

It took a bit, but we managed to get airborne, and rode back off towards home.

* * *

"Are you sure he's going to come up here Mother?"

Caeldori and I were laying down on top of the roof, next to the window of a certain bedroom near the highest point of the keep. We were doing our best to keep out of sight for now, waiting to see if my suspicions were correct or not about. If I was wrong, then odds were the coward did run off like Morgan said.

Or maybe, just maybe, he had a certain target in mind.

"No, dear. I'm not sure at all." I admit, speaking in a softened tone to avoid bringing undue attention to our position. "But if there's one thing I've learned, it's to trust my gut."

And my gut was telling me they were here for something very particular.

I ruled out the chance of them being assassins. They were too lightly armed and not even good enough in a scrape to get past the Virion or Cherche's personal entourage, let alone Virion or Cherche themselves. The Duke wasn't even here, he was off trying to get more recruits for the militia for the coming battle. Cherche was spending the day with her cousin trying to take care of the starving and wounded on the castle grounds.

They weren't thieves either. Thieves don't charge in the front door trying to set up distractions for second teams. Cutthroats and brigands were all in it for the same thing; lining their own pockets. The idea that anyone would volunteer for a job that was certain to get them captured or killed was a laugh.

They had to be military of some kind to even have a plan this bold. And their target had to be something, or someone, separated from the rest of the castle, usually guarded but unable to defend itself, and worth tossing eight men at.

That's when I hear it, the soft sound of footsteps hitting the roof in front of us.

Caeldori and I peak our heads forward to spot the rogue in question creeping his way forward to the window, back facing both of us. Grinning from ear to ear, I draw out my dagger from my vest. I flip it over, holding it by the tip and eying my target.

"You seem to be enjoying yourself." Caeldori comments from the side. I don't turn to look at her, but her voice almost sounds frightened at my current state. I've got the right to be happy, this numbskull showing up here validated that I was right. I out-thought _Morgan_ of all people, that wasn't something I could gloat about every day.

As the figure began to slowly clamber up through the window, I pulled my hand back and lined up the shot. We're a good distance away, if I miss this he's gonna be able to make a break for it. And Caeldori already shoo'd her ride away so it wouldn't give us up.

For once in my life, I need everything to go as I want it to.

I take a breath, close my eyes, and steel myself.

Then I send my hand flying forward, eyes bursting wide again.

A feminine cry pierces the sky as the steel sinks right into the upper-right forearm of the her back, causing her to tumble over and smash into the room.

Not even waiting for Caeldori's response, I kick forward and rush over, giddy as a school girl. It worked! I got her! All those knife-throwing lessons from Felicia finally paid off! Now to just collar this witch and get her sent to the dungeon.

"Mother, wait!" I hear from behind me as I bring myself inside. No point in waiting, we need to get her tied up and out of here before the kid starts getting scared. Landing on my feet, I start to scan the room.

That's when I realize Caeldori wasn't asking me to wait for her, she was trying to warn me.

Something heavy gets broken over the top of my head as soon as I get inside, and I tumble over like a bag of bricks. My vision starts going double immediately, and before I can even try to register what's going on, I'm being flipped over onto my back.

Standing above me is the wounded skulker, knife still lodged in her arm. A practice sword's held in her off hand, the thing worn and scraped from overuse. Plus it has a fresh dent in it made from my diamond hard skull. She brings it down as second time on my stomach, knocking what little wind I had left in me back out.

The vulnerary was already wearing off before I this, now it felt like I hadn't taken any at all. The fire in my back returns in force, matched with the new bruise formed over my stomach. Dazed, off kilter and stunned. Everything went from going great to going terribly in five seconds flat. Story of my life.

Right as she lifts the practice sword up to give me another thwack, Caeldori finally made her entrance. And a rather grand entrance it was.

My daughter threw herself into the window and tackled my assailant to the ground, catching _her_ as off-guard as she caught me. Maybe she didn't think I had help? She should've heard Caeldori call out to me when I hopped through.

Not that I'm gonna complain about good fortune. As I lift my head up I can see Caeldori already straddling the woman and sending a few jabs right at her jaw. Just like she had to that merc at the start of our little journey here in Valm. Until finally, I could hear her opponent call out for mercy.

With one last smack, seemingly rendering her living punching bag unconscious, Caeldori detached herself and moved to my side. "Can you please, _please_ listen to me when I say something?" I hear her plead into my ringing ears. Normally I'd say something smart in response, but my fresh headache dissuaded me from my usual antics. All I could do was grumble a non-committed agreement.

Then out of the corner of my eye, I see a blur start shuffling out from under the bed.

A small, blue haired boy with soft eyes staring fearfully at the three strange people who had come into his room. In this world he didn't know me yet, he probably wouldn't until this new conflict was said and done. But seeing him still hit me hard, the same way seeing all the younger versions of ourselves did.

"Gerome. Back under your bed." I command, weakly lifting a hand and shoo-ing him away. He didn't need to see this. The entire reason we came back was to make sure no one ever needed to see this kind of stuff ever again.

With a quick nod, the toddler silently scuttled himself back under just as quickly as he appeared. It was like he was never there to begin with.

"Get… get her tied up, then grab some guards to get her downstairs." I tell Caeldori, wrenching myself free and setting myself up against the wall of the room. It was a nice place, grand for a child. The bed is three times my size, let alone his. Toys scatter across the room and burst from a chest. A wooden rocking horse rests near the door, surrounded by a desk and parchment.

"And leave you here?" Caeldori asks, like I requested she throw me into the mouth of a dragon.

"What is she gonna do when you tie her up, bleed on me?" I point out. "I can't help you bring her down, get some people who can."

"And what about _you?_ You can barely stand!" She continues, but she's already grabbed the rope from her hip and made her way back atop our prisoner.

"Then you better get me a healer before this concussion really starts affecting me." I manage out. Good, at least my sense of humor is surviving this constant brain damage I keep thrusting onto myself.

Shaking with frustration, Caeldori throws her hands up and finishes with the bindings. "Sometimes I really question if I'm actually the daughter of someone so reckless." She states, pushing herself back to a stand and glowering at me. She's upset, and she has the right to be, but her eyes betray the same worry she always has whenever I end up getting hurt.

I'll admit, that last comment hit a bit home. Being chastised by my own flesh and blood isn't something anyone likes. It was almost like she was ashamed of the fact that she _was_ my daughter.

"Well unless your father slept with another redhead in Corrin's army, you're stuck with me dear." I manage out, trying to hide my hurt with another sarcastic joke. Reckless really the best adjective to describe me. Even all these years after training in those fields after dark, I still kept making boneheaded decisions. Old dogs can't really learn new tricks. Even when the dog wasn't even in her thirties yet.

"Now are you going to get that healer or what?"


	11. X-1: Master and Commander I

Five years of peace had done Ylisstol many favors.

The city's structure had been rebuilt completely from the Second and Third Plegian wars. The rubble had long since been cleared, abandoned buildings long since returned to. Life poured from the city, be it through shops or music or pedestrians. Horses carrying goods and children running about playing amongst themselves. Gendarmes stood at the gates, doing their sentry and speaking with the populace.

Safety and prosperity came back to the people, ushered on by the royals now at the helm of the Halidom. The memories of Grima were just that; memories. Cautionary tales and bedtime terrors told to young ones to not commit bad deeds. The only scars left of the war itself were the memories that it's veterans held onto. The destruction, the death, the devastation. It wasn't the reality anymore, and it was something all were thankful for.

Those memories drove it's people to better their homes, and to better what surrounded them. Ylisse had become far more involved in the world than it had under Emmeryn, keeping up diplomatic channels with nations not only on Archenea, but even as far as Valm, Jugdral and Elibe.

Chrom rebuilt the nation's military from the ground up, turning it into a modern force and quadruple the size that his sister ever allowed. Full divisions, garrisons and even expeditionary groups. Sumia handled the economic side of things, overseeing the rebuilding of roads, farms, mines and towns. The seven duchies within the Halidom all tied to the central heart of the nation; Ylisstol. The shining city that gave life to it all.

But nothing is always happily ever after.

* * *

"I should keelhaul you both." Natalia growled out, marching through the courtyard of the barracks at a swift and enraged pace. Coils of smoke could be imagined puffing from her ears, the hands she held behind her back clenched behind her length of steel colored hair. Bronze colored iron armor encased her upper body, a similar colored open-topped helm and visor resting on her head.

Two girls followed behind her, making a stubby 'V' as they stomped upon the grass. One was a brown haired girl, spectacles framing her small and plain features as panic presented itself. The other's hair was a jet black, her skin tone and temperament far darker and subdued. Both wore steel-grey armor and closed off helmet topping their own heads.

"Sergeant, in our defense-" One of the girls behind her began, stuttering out loud as her glasses nearly slipped down her nose. The things would've fallen to the ground if she didn't catch them, squeaking meekly as they fell into her grasp.

" **Your defense is moot."** The Falcon Knight roared back, not even bothering to look at the two behind her as they pressed on. A few heads from the windows above them popped to see what the ruckus was about, followed by a few giggles as the spectators caught onto the premise of the show.

"Great. Now the whole Squadron's going to know." The other knight grumbled, shooting a glare upwards to the peanut gallery. It didn't help any, the observers merely waved back with a pleased grin shared between them all..

"The Squadron? I'm about to drag you in front of the Knight-Captain, and you're worried about the _Squadron?_ " Natalia continued, lifting a hand and snapping her fingers to focus the pair's attention forwards once more. "Should I even bother asking what in the hell you two were thinking?"

"W-we were just trying to do the right thing." The glasses toting girl stammered, cowed by the clear and present rage.

As they passed under an archway that opened up an entrance back into the interior of the complex, their senior stopped and turned around. Both her boots clicking loudly, an echo shaking the room. For the two troopers it felt like reality itself bent as the sound crashed around them. The start of the end of their worlds.

"You let a thief escape. _After_ the Gendarmes contracted us to assist them." Natalie chastised, tone as sharp and cold as a sword's blade. Again one of the knights attempted to speak, again the Sergeant cut her off. "Do you realize even the damage you two have caused? You made the law keepers of the city lose their faith in us. When our aid is requested, we do _not_ make hairbrained decisions like this."

"He stole a loaf of bread and they were gonna take his hand for it, Sarge." The darker trooper grumbled defensively, hand resting on her hip. "We're supposed to be protecting people, not crippling'em."

Her compatriot nodded in agreement, glasses sliding down her nose once more. "He didn't even hurt anyone! When we showed up he didn't even try to fight us off!"

"Maybe because you're two soldiers in armor on mounts." Natalia deadpanned, sighing in defeat as her shoulders slumped. Her eyes at that moment may have betrayed her true feelings on the matter, but she had her own duties to fulfill. "It doesn't matter. We're wasting time."

Down another hall and up another flight of stairs, the trio found themselves standing in front of a large oak door, a pair of ornate golden wings framed upon it. With a rap of the knuckles, Natalia called into the room and awaited a response.

Surprisingly, all that happened was the door slowly opened to reveal an empty office. Not a soul resided inside it's walls. Three chairs sat unused in front of a grand redwood desk, a chair cut from the same tree resting behind it. Stacks of paperwork rested on the right side, each neatly set up into prim and straight towers. An unlit candle rested in front of the open window, natural light beaming around it. The walls were lined with shelves of books; tactical treatise, movement plans, logs, rosters and a few casual page-turners.

"Captain Volkner?" The Sergeant called in, doing a simple sweep of the room with her eyes. Pondering for a moment, she simply slipped inside and allowed the two women to follow her. "Sit down, both of you. She'll return soon enough."

"I-is it wise to go inside without the Commander's permission?" The brunette trooper questioned, her compatriot not showing a similar hesitation as she moved inside and sat herself in the nearest chair.

"You're not getting out of this that easy, MacIntyre. Now **get in here."** Natalia barked, jutting a finger to the empty chair.

More afraid of her present company then reprimand from their leader, the meek girl compiled at speed. Rushing from the doorframe to the designated seating at a speed that would make most myrmidons blush.

Grunting in approval, their senior began to pace back and forth behind the two as they waited for their audience to begin. Both girls just melted into their chairs, the finality of their situation sinking into both all at once.

"If it was up to me-" Natalia began, keeping up her strides. "I'd have you both sent north to Friga so you can send the next year freezing about what you've done. The Feroxi need more help watching the Longfort."

"You mean they need more punching bags for their border guards." The stoic girl quipped.

The falcon knight paused, leveling a malicious glare at the back of her subordinate's head. "Fairfield, has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?"

Her subordinate snorted. "My entire family did. Why do you think I got stuck with this job?"

"Maybe opening the ranks to commoners was a mistake." Natalia grumbled, giving the chair a swift kick in the rear as it's occupant jutted upwards. "You still have a shopkeeper's glib. I thought I trained you better."

"You did, but I'm prolly about to be discharged anyhow." Fairfield answered, removing her helmet and running a hand through her dark-as-night hair. "No real point in keeping up appearances."

"D-don't say that!" MacIntyre interjected, snapping out of her pool of self-loathing for only a moment. "We can still get out of this! I-I'm sure the Commander will hear us out."

" _Oh, I will now?"_

The trio turned about in their respective positions to see two new women standing in the entrance of the office. One, a red-haired dark flier with a blue and black uniform, silver pauldrons resting on her shoulders. Two white wing-clips distinctly stood out from the waves of crimson. To her side was a woman wearing golden falcon knight gear, her tunic underneath the armor shimmering with a deep purple and pink trousers. Her greyish-brown hair had it's own wing-clip, resting at the rear.

It took a moment for the three to realize exactly who was with their commander, but once it clicked they all scrambled. The three knights quickly formed up in the foreground of the chairs, each going down onto a knee and bowing their heads.

"Your Majesty! A thousand apologies!" Natalia muttered at once, eyes directed at the riding boots of the royal in question. "We didn't know you were in the compound."

"I didn't want you all making a big deal over it." Sumia mused, a bit pleased regardless of the presentation that lay before her. "We didn't expect anyone to be in here, actually. Is something the matter? Why are you all in full combat gear?"

"And why are two of you wearing your helmets indoors?" Cordelia questioned, eyes floating over the trio. Three of her troopers in her office unannounced, this already sounded like she had even more work to do. "On your feet, all of you."

The three stood upwards, taking proper stance in view of their leaders. The remaining removed their helmets and slipped them in the crook of their arms, eyes forward.

Pleased, Cordelia sighed as she slipped into the room. Sumia followed suit, standing at the flank of her friend's desk. "Well? Don't leave us hanging in suspense."

The three soldiers presenting themselves spun about to face Cordelia, sitting down in her ornate office chair and resting her nose atop her interlaced fingers. Every day she had a new crisis to deal with, it seemed. She'd spent too many nights asleep in this room instead of her proper home, and that annoyance leaked into the aura that permeated about her.

An aura that the Sergeant keyed in on quickly. Grimacing at the situation, Natalia began her speech. "Commander. I'm here to report that both of these troopers have commited dereliction of duty." She rattled off, internally panicking as she saw Cordelia's mood blacken even more. "They were tasked by myself to assist the Gendarmes in apprehending a thief from the market. However when they happened upon the hooligan, they let him go instead of dragging him to the jailhouse."

"You obviously know what happened, Sergeant. Were you present and allowed this?" Cordelia growled, the two knights in question now being lined up in her crosshairs. On the surface they seemed unphased by their current situation, but time in leadership had taught her how to read people. Fairfield, the knight on the left, had developed a reputation as being a loudmouth. She also tended to rattle her teeth together when afraid. MacIntyre, the girl with the glasses, was your typical bookworm and wasn't someone you'd expect much from. Her eyes seemed to flick about the entire room, trying to find something to focus on and use as an anchor.

Natalia shook her head. "No ma'am. They were confronted by the Gendarmes, and I requested I bring them here to be punished instead of dragged in front of the city's magistrate." She explained calmly. In truth, it was to avoid both of them being assaulted by the six officers of the law they had managed to enrage. And to hopefully avoid seeing two of her troopers spend a night in shackles.

Cordelia sighed through her nose, knowing the Falcon Knight as well as the two accused behind her. She knew did it to save them, she just knew she couldn't admit it. Sumia remained silent, worry creasing her brow.

"Fairfield, MacIntyre. Explain yourselves." Cordelia commanded.

Surprisingly, MacIntyre was the first person to come forward, sucking in the air around her before she unleashed a torrent of words. "Weweregoingtobringhimtothejailhousebutthenhetolduswhathappenedandthenwesawthebreadhehadonhimthenthegendiesshowedupandweregonnastabhimsowestoppedthemandlethimrunbeforeheendedupgettinghu-"

" **Stop, for Naga's sake."** Cordelia moaned, palming her face and groaning loudly. She lifted her other hand, pointing towards the still silent soldier. "Fairfield, explain in a language we can understand."

Grunting, Fairfield stepped forwards as MacIntyre's head bowed down in embarrassment. "He stole a loaf of bread and they wanted to lop his hand off. We made a judgement call and let'im run while we distracted the Gendarmes. He just didn't wanna starve, ma'am." She explained clearly and concisely. "I don't regret it for a moment. Even if I get stripped of my armor, ma'am, I know I made the right choice."

Her partner in crime nodded along with her words. Behind them, their Sergeant's mouth curled up into a smile reflecting some level of pride. The expression disappeared rather quickly as the Captain's gaze leveled on her once more.

"...Sergeant, stay. The two of you, your bunks. Now." Cordelia ordered.

The two saluted their commander, slipped their helmets back on, and marched back out from whence they came. Their metal footsteps slowly dying off and replaced with the piercing silence after the door was shut behind them.

"You taught them well Natalia." Cordelia mused, dropping her angered facade as her lips curled into a smirk. "Only one month in service and they're already thinking for themselves."

"I've only taught them what you both taught me when I was in their position." The Sergeant answered with a soft bow at the waist. "But they still broke the law, noble as it was."

"They did. But last I checked the penalty for theft hasn't been mutilation for decades." Cordelia commented, glancing to her friend at her flank before standing up and moving to open her window.

"It isn't. Emmeryn got rid of that law ages before Chrom took over." Sumia affirmed herself, t

Natalia stood there, confused. "Then… why would they…? I don't understand."

"Gaius. Care to explain?" Sumia chimed, calling out to the now open window.

With that, a ginger topped head popped through and scanned the room. A black bandana hung from his head, along with a sack resting on his back. The new arrival whistled loudly as he inspected the room. "Woah. Didn't know Stumbles set you up with a room this nice, Red."

"If only I spent less time in it." Cordelia sighed as her old friend slipped inside. She paced back over to her desk, opening it and pulling out a small package before setting it on top.

"I'm still at a complete loss here." Natalia stated once more. "Can someone please pass me the memo?"

"Oh. Well, ya see-" Gaius started, digging about in his sack before pulling out a large loaf of raisin bread. "-does this help?"

The Sergeant's jaw dropped then and there, all the while Sumia giggled from her position resting against the shelves. "Told you she'd react like that."

"I think we both would've in her shoes." Cordelia noted as Gaius slipped the loaf back into his sack. The Captain then tossed him the envelope, which he caught and bounced in his hand. "Took far more effort then it should have to find that. I think _you_ owe _me_ now."

The thief opened the package up to look inside, eyes glistening as he stared at its contents. He nodded at once, gingerly slipping it next to the bread and going back over towards the window. "You got it, Red! Now I gotta move, Missus'll get antsy if I don't make it home with this."

With that, the sticky-fingered felon hopped back out and disappeared.

Natalia's shock finally subsided, unamused at the whole affair. "You hired a thief to steal bread and nearly give me a heart attack, _why?_ "

"To test how all of you would react." Cordelia answered, grinning rather evilly. "I wanted to see how the new members of the Guard company would act in a morally dubious situation. And how you would respond respectively. You _were_ only recently promoted to falcon knight after all."

Sputtering and fuming, Natalia didn't seem to be able to compute what had just happened.

"It was on my request, Nat." Sumia slipped in, nervously twiddling her thumbs. "I like knowing how the people who guard my family would… you know, _act_ on the job?"

"You all acted as we hoped." Cordelia added.

"But-! I-! There were-!" The grey haired soldier continued, giving up and slumping into one of the chairs. "Just… please, _please_ never do that again." She pleaded.

"No need to perform the same test twice." Cordelia conceded. "What did you think I was going to do?"

Natalia shrugged. "Make me run them through drills for the rest of the week. Yell at them until you were blue in the face. Maybe do that thing with a fire tome you showed me when I first joined the Regiment."

"I like that first one. Do that, add latrine duty too it as well. I'd rather they didn't catch on."

Her former student rolled her eyes. "Wonderful. Of course, Captain. Anything else?"

"I just received a letter. The situation in Valm's apparently gotten worse." Cordelia explained, shaking her head. "We'll be escorting Her Majesty for a diplomatic trip to Chon'sin. Get the girls ready to trip to Port Ferox."

Natalia nodded, standing back to her feet and mounting her own helmet back on. With a salute of her own, and a returned gesture by her commander, the woman slipped out of the office. Soon her footsteps disappeared as well.

"You know you don't have to bring a full Troop." Sumia murmured once the two were finally alone, taking a seat in one of the chairs that hadn't been used during the whole interaction. "I'll be fine, Cynthia said she'll come down from Wyvern Valley to keep me safe."

"Sumia, dear. I say this with respect as your friend _and_ your bodyguard, but that's not going to happen." Cordelia affirmed, finally relaxing into her chair. "I can't just let the Queen of the Halidom go to a continent at war without some kind of escort."

"Maybe, but…" Sumia paused, drumming her hands on her lap. "Cordelia, you need a vacation. A proper one."

"Hm? No I don't, I'm fine." Cordelia dismissed immediately. "Never been better, really. It's nice having something to do."

"...How long has it been since you went home to little Severa and Morgan?" Sumia asked.

"Two days ago." Cordelia answered. Truthfully as well, she'd left the office to spend some time with her two young daughters. Severa was a few years off from reaching double digits, meanwhile Morgan was still trying to understand the finer-points of tying laces and putting her own dresses on. "It's been hard, but Miriel and Lissa make time to help."

"And it'll be even harder when you're on the other side of the world guarding me." Sumia pointed out. "Cordelia, you need a vacation. A real one, not a day or two off once in a while. For the past five years I don't think I've ever seen you leave the city unless it was on-mission."

"Never thought I'd hear the day when my boss complains that I'm too dedicated to my work." The red haired rider muttered darkly.

"I'm grateful, you know that. But…" Again, Sumia sighed. "You've been through a lot. Too much for most people to handle."

"I've _handled_ myself well enough" Cordelia affirmed, the same certainty as always. "As you said. It's been years. Life goes on."

"Cordelia. Please, I know I'm a bit all over the place, but don't think I can't tell when my best friend's in a rut." The royal noted, frowning at her oldest friend. Sorrow was never something Cordelia knew how to process well, and experience hadn't helped her much in this regard.

Now it was Cordelia's turn to sigh once more, shaking her head at the silliness of the whole situation. "...I miss them. But I don't mourn them for a reason."

"Cordelia, we've searched up and d-"

"He isn't dead. I can feel it." The woman affirmed once more. "Neither is Severa. This isn't denial, Sumia. I'm not wishfully thinking with my head in the clouds. My husband and my daughter are alive out there."

"For someone who scolds me over my 'silly little flower fortunes', I find it funny how I'm trying to be the voice of reason here." Sumia chimed. "...How do you know for sure? Everyone looked. For both of them."

"Lucina's been in Regina Ferox for two months now without a word. You haven't seen Cynthia in an entire year." Cordelia pointed out. "You feel it too. That cord we have with our families, we've had it since we reunited with them. Tell me, are they safe?"

"Yeah… I guess I can understand that." Sumia conceded, deciding it was best to not push the subject even further forward. "I'm worried about Lucina. It's been too long since we've gotten a report, and the succession crisis is only getting worse. Flavia still can't intervene."

"Lon'qu and Olivia are there to keep her safe, remember?"

Sumia rolled her eyes. "We sent her up there so she keep _them_ safe, not the other way around. Besides, with Basilio's recent passing, the throne of the West Khan's devolving into a free-for-all. At this rate we might need to send troops up north as well as across the sea."

Cordelia shook her head. "We already have forces in Roseanne and Plegia. The cost of sending another expedition north would be madness. The people aren't going to tolerate another tax hike."

The Queen tutted. "I know. Themis said their harvest might not reach the quota. Friga almost refused the last levy. Tuscana's slipping, so are Taylis and Pyrathi. The only Duchy that isn't reporting problems is Archenea Prime."

"They're the largest territory outside of Ylisstol. If they were having problems, we the entire Halidom has a problem.." Cordelia muttered darkly.

"And guess who they're blaming for all of this?" Sumia sang bitterly, "I should've known this would happen. Chrom and I never had a head for economy, Emmeryn always knew better than us."

"Last I checked you're the one who basically rebuilt the country's economy from scratch after Grima nearly burned it all down." Cordelia pointed out. "People have food in their stomachs, even if their purse-strings are tight."

"I guess all of those tutors mother sent me through paid off after all. Though I doubt she ever expected her middle-child to end up Queen of the nation." She reminisced fondly. "Do you really think we've done a good job?"

"Have I ever sugar-coated my opinions?" Was Cordelia's reply. Sumia chuckled, drawing a letter out from under her armor and passing it across. The Captain snatched it up quickly, inspecting the thing for a moment before removing the parchment from the letter she had already read earlier. "At least our information network's working without a hitch."

"Those new outposts we set up on those islands between the continents made transporting letters quicker." Sumia noted "Instead of relying on something as slow as Wyvern, a Pegasus can actually make a flight over the ocean without risking the mount or the flier passing out. Thank the Gods."

As her eyes read the letter, a smile came across Cordelia's face once more. Even with droll reports and boring messages, any letter from her daughter was one she was happy to read. Though this one was a bit darker than the ones that came before. It confirmed what Virion was worried about, his country was in the crosshairs once more. A pang of sorrow hung for Cordelia over her old friend's plight, but she'd already done what she could. Besides, Morgan was a good warrior and a better tactician. Short of her father, she wouldn't run into much issue.

"Roseanne's going to be attacked soon, but Morgan thinks they'll be fine. Apparently there's a scouting force that she was going to assault the day after she wrote this."

"I'm guessing she wanted to make a show of force?"

"Either that or she wanted to see what Virion's new army can do."

Sumia shrugged. "Either way, she probably routed them. Anything else of note?"

"She's guessing it's a smaller force then whatever they've thrown at Chon'sin. At least this time Dynasts are working together instead of letting each one die on their own."

"Maybe they learned a lesson from how our alliance with Ferox made us stronger with numbers."

"Or maybe they're desperate enough to wait until after the dust has settled to go for 'reunification' themselves."

"Well, you're the Commander here. Do you think she needs help?"

Cordelia paused, pondering the situation. Even if Morgan could handle the first force the enemy threw at Roseanne, they still had other men they could probably fling at the Duchy. The Valentians had numbers, and attrition won wars. Still, she didn't have any authority over the normal Army. She could ask some of the former Shepherds to come along, but the only one she could think would be willing to help was Stahl. If he came, Lissa would try to join them after hearing about it from him. If Lissa came, Chrom would want to come along to protect his younger sibling. Henry would also swoop in to keep an eye on Lissa. And suddenly, she would have to protect almost all of the leaders of the Halidom in a warzone.

Still, she needed the help. And the knight turned Paladin had turned into a rather capable Commander. Stahl enjoys that Colonel position plenty. Think he'd be willing to take his unit over without his brother in law coming along for the ride?"

"I'll keep Chrom in the city, I promise." Sumia stated, grinning at her husband's tendency to follow where the fight was. "I'll just tell him I need Lissa's help, and you can get his Division commander to approve of him coming along."

Cordelia nodded, agreeing with the plan. It'd be a little while. Hopefully they'd be able to move within the month, providing bureaucracy didn't get in the way.

Or at the very least, keep her daughter alive.

* * *

 _ **And so ends the first Xenologue, hopefully conveying the state of the world after Grima got murdered.**_

 _ **What was that thing Loptus told Seliph at the end of 776? 'So long as avarice lurks still in the hearts of men, I will return'?**_

 _ **Either way, new fires start even when you put the old ones out. Life goes on, and you roll with the punches.**_

 _ **Sorry for the long break again, I'm actually on vacation right now. Come next week I'll hopefully get chapters 10 and 11 out rather quickly**_

 _ **o/**_


	12. C-10: Meet the New Boss

Against my protests, Caeldori forced me to spend another night in the castle's hospice. Even though the pain had settled and I found myself able to move again, my daughter seems to have inherited my family's stubbornness.

It's been slow going ever since I've been thrown down here. The first hour I was alone with a priest, shorter boy with hair the same tint as parchment. He seemed kind enough at first, trying to make conversation even though my mood made me not want to entertain him. Knew his way around a stave pretty well, the pain from the assault I'd been handed drifted away before I knew it. After that it was just usual therapy, ointments and rubs on my back to try and get me walking properly again. The good news was that apparently the reason why the vulnerary worked as well as it did was because I was already mostly recovered. The damage was fixed, all that remained was soreness. Still, I'd be stuck with the cane for at least a few more days. 'Need to make sure' he told me.

"Besides, could be worse. I could strap you to a wheelchair instead." He jokes, sitting himself down in an empty hospital bed. It's funny, he was the same age I was when we first came back in time. The fact that I was old enough to consider him a kid really shows how much things've changed.

"Easy, buddy. I'm not hurt enough that I need one of those things." I point out, resting back against the large set of pillows behind me. It felt like I was being sucked into a cushioned dimension, full of fluff and puff.

"Maybe. But your daughter warned me that you might give me a headache down here." The smug little runt grins at me, mischief in his eyes as he rubs his hands together. "Plus it'd mean I get to try out the new elixirs I've been brewing up. It'd be fun! For me, though. Not for you, this stuff is more bitter than boiled wyvern dung. But let's not think about that."

"Okaaaaay, now you're _definitely_ not getting me into a chair." I confirm slowly, edging myself a little bit further away from my supposed 'caretaker'. The kid just laughs at me, throwing his head back and grabbing his stomach. For a Priest he seems to get a kick out of making people squirm a little bit.

"Calm down, Captain. 'Do no harm' still stands." He assures me, going up to his feet and walking himself over to the counter-top. Different ingredients, a boiler top cradling a kettle, and accouterments are scattered around rather haphazardly. But I'm more focused on my healer then the environment. Something about his posture seems rather practiced. Back's straight at all times, hands clasped together whenever they aren't holding something. They don't seem calloused either... I doubt he's seen much fighting in his life. Considering he would've been twelve during the Walhart mess, I guess he missed the war.

I smile to myself. Silver linings pop up sooner or later.

"What's your name, kiddo?" I ask, giving the pillows behind me a few jabs with my elbow.

"Hm? Oh." He turns around, mortar and pestle in hand as he's grinding some herbs into powder. Probably more medicine for me to force down later. "Uh… Percival LeRoux, ma'am. But uh, most of the other Priests here call me Percy." My giggling catches him off-guard, as if he said something wrong. The resemblance is there for sure. Same messy hair, same large blue eyes, same squeaky voice. Sure, not as bombastic as my Percy. Not nearly as flippy as Arthur either, but still there.

"You just remind me of someone." I explain after settling down. "Friend of mine's son was named Percy. Except he rode Wyverns and wore costumes, he wasn't much of a healer."

Percival shudders at the mention of wyverns, dumping the powder he had grinded up into the bottom of a cup. "Those things terrify me. How do you manage to ride something that wants to eat you?"

"Beats me, it's your Duchess on one." I say with a shrug. "I like keeping my feet on the ground anyway."

"Hm. I thought you would like Pegasi like that Ylissean Commander." He quips, grabbing the hissing kettle. "Aren't you two related somehow? Cousins?"

"She's my younger sister." I correct. Didn't think we looked _that_ different, then again Anakos did change my appearance a decent bit.

"Ah." He pauses for a moment, letting the brew stew on it's own after pouring the water out. "...Is she seeing someone?"

The look in my eyes must've been enough for him to realize just how big of a mistake he just made. Opting to take the smart route and change the subject, Percy grabs the cup and shuffles over to me. "You were with the Ylissean League, right?"

Cautiously I nod, taking the cup into my hands and smelling the… not sure if it was medicine or poison. Every one of my senses was telling me that this wasn't something humans should drink. "Yeah… uh… what did you put in this?"

Each ingredient he lists, he counts off with a finger. "Year-old willow bark. Pickled fish. Rubarb. Some ash from the Demon's Ingle." I must be giving him another glare, because he's shrinking away a bit more. "Don't look at me like that, it's a holy site for a reason. People say drinking it gives you a bit of Duma's essence."

"I don't know what a Duma is, but uh… OK?" I concede. If I can survive Felicia's cooking, I can survive this. Probably.

As I force some of the slew down my throat, Percy picks up with his previous line of questioning. "Why did you all come here? Ylisse has a lot of ocean between itself and us."

I'd respond if I wasn't trying to stop my gag-reflex. This stuff, whatever it's made of, is the most rancid bile I've ever drank. Even worse than Morgan's bear-snake-eel cocktails. Expecting this, Percy ended up lifting a bucket from beneath the bed.

"Yeaaaaah you probably shouldn't've drank it all at once." He tells me _now_ between retches. "It's more of a sip and savor kind of flavor. I get that you can't appreciate it yet, but over time-"

As I lift my head up from the bucket, I slowly drag in a few breaths before I manage a reply. "Kid… shut up, before I dunk you in my hurl."

Again that shuts him up, and we're interrupted by the sound of a door being pushed open. I expected visitors sooner or later. Caeldori, Subaki, Morgan. Even Cherche or Virion. But I was surprised to see none other than Roseanne's own War Cleric slip into the room. Her usual headdress was missing, but the rest of her armor and church uniform was present.

And as usual, she didn't seem happy when she looked at me.

"Percival. I'd like a moment with the Captain." Blanche commands, her face twitching for a brief moment as the smell of the 'medicine' and my internal fluids intermingle throughout the entire room. "And take that bucket with you."

"A-at once your Holiness." Percy quickly grabs the bucket from my hands, ducking his head and shuffling out of the room. Wow, two sentences and she lights that much of a fire under his arse? The Valmese Church was always more strict than what we have in Ylisse but… yikes. They're almost militaristic here.

"I think you scared him." I comment, wiping my mouth with a nearby towel.

Blanche keeps advancing forwards, chuckling at the idea before pausing at the head of the mattress. "I came here to thank you, child. While the Duchess and I were questioning our guests, you managed to keep the Marquis safe."

"Marquis…?" I ask, confused. Well, before I put two and two together. "Oh. Gerome. Yeah, well, we're here. And we're getting paid to keep you all safe, so…" I shrug, scratching the side of my nose. "Also they're called Marquesses in Ylisse."

"Dialects aside, you have my gratitude for protecting the young boy from harm." She gives me a low bow, and I can't help but feel unbelievably pleased with myself. When she first saw me all I got was snide remarks, now she's actually giving me some respect!

"Don't misunderstand me, Miss Volkner. I still very much dislike you." She immediately corrects once she spots my happy smirk, snatching it from my face and putting one on herself.

"Uh huh." I answer drolly, scratching under my gloves. "I'm sorry that I'm not a happy little airhead like my sister. _Someone's_ gotta be the realist in the family."

"Hm. True. You and your sister are almost nothing alike. In fact, if you two did not swear by it, I'd argue you were not related at all. She radiates that strange Ylissean optimism I've heard about, but you… you act different. As if you weren't even from Ylisse." She nods agreeingly, stroking her chin as she started to pace around the bed. The tension in the room started to tick up out of nowhere, what little sunlight was still outside seemed to squelch away as night came all at once. The Cleric's mood was different too, darker. She… didn't come here for small talk or thanks.

It was then I notice something key.

She's armed. There was a hand-axe hanging on her hip.

"If I didn't know any better, my dear. I'd say you were a Plegian." Blanche continues, taking in my change in expression. If anything this seems to make her even more amused. "You have the attitude of one. The complexion of one as well, pale and lifeless. Like a puppet of skin."

"Is this going anywhere, ma'am?" I ask impatiently.

"Why do you always have those gloves on?" She asks immediately. "The dining hall, the keep's grounds, the bathing pool, dare I say you even wear them when you're sleeping."

I can't lose my cool, it's not like I'm in any state to defend myself. "You have a disturbing obsession with my hands then, 'your Holiness'. Spent a bit too much time reading some weirds books?"

She ignores me, continuing with her monologue. "It's not just the weird habits and the poor attitude. It's your aura. You carry yourself as someone with only basic instruction in light and anima magic, but your dark magic presence is… immense. Even the other Priests and Clerics can tell, and they haven't been trained to sense dark magic like I have." She tuts her tongue, like I was a student she was scolding. "Your supposed sister shares trait as well, but she's one of Ylisse's infamous Dark Fliers. Her dabbing in heresy is not surprising."

I remain silent, just resting my hands in my lap.

"Take the gloves off." She commands, coming to a halt at the foot of the bed and staring me down. Before she was holding both her hands behind her back, now she had one of them resting on the handle of the axe.

I should've seen this coming sooner or later.

Begrudgingly, I comply. I remove both of my battle-gloves and set them on the stand to the side, and let her see my hands free and clear. I actually painted my nails a few days ago, nice shade of white like my old hair used to be. Trimmed them too, would've taken them down to get a manicure.

Except for the birthmark on the back of my right hand. The large black curved V, with eight ovals skewered through but it. There was a small dot in each one, making it look like they were eyes. It was an ugly mark, it felt evil. Then again, of course it was. It was the mark of Grima for Gods' sake.

"There were rumors, but I wanted to see it for myself." Blanche moved forwards, roughly grabbing my wrist and tugging it closer. It was a bit obvious she was doing this to cause me pain, not to get a better look. But I wasn't gonna give her the satisfaction of a reaction. "Your Father was Plegian, that much I knew. But his family being Grimleal? Are the Ylisseans truly mad enough to allow people like that into their nation?"

"You're wandering into an issue you don't want to be a part of, Blanche." I answer calmly, staring back at the bloodthirsty Cleric. Much as I'd rather not look at her at the moment, catching sight of the mark was even more uncomfortable to me. "You really think Virion and Cherche, two people who helped kill Grima, would let a practicing Grimleal get this close to them?"

"They both have a tendency to forgive people who don't deserve it." She released my hand, eyeing me carefully. "Weren't the Shepherds apparently accompanied by a pair of Plegian Dark Mages?"

I roll my eyes at the mention of Henry and Tharja. "Yeah, and they helped save the world too. One of them even married a Cleric of Naga. So I'd wager they did more than you, sitting on your rear safe and sound."

I don't even move when her hand wraps itself around my throat, tightening like a noose right before the floor falls out from under you. I can breath, barely, but it hurts. When I try to pry her off of me, I can't even make her budge. Gods… damn it…

" **Do you realize how many people we lost here!?"** She roars, her usual serenity completely foreign to me now as I struggle in her grip. **"How many villages I saw burn!? How many families I had to bury!? All because of that madman Validar and his damnable God!?"**

I need to stop panicking. It's obvious she's stronger than me, and I can't wriggle my way out of this. But if she was going to kill me, she'd actually be choking me out. Right now she's just keeping me pinned in place.

" **We thought it was over when Walhart fell! We thought we would finally have peace! Instead we had the LIVING DEAD coming to kill us!"** She continues, voice breaking as she recalls the war that had past us all. "Everyone… they killed everyone. And then, the ones they killed came back, and **joined them.** It was **nightmare!** And it's all their fault!"

I bob my head up and down as best I can. Every fiber of my being's telling me to go for the woman's axe and cut her to pieces. Take her arm off, then her head, then just keep going to town… what is going on with me?

"You…" She grits her teeth together, but I can feel her fingers slipping enough for me to breathe clearly again. "There's something evil in you. I don't know what it is, but it's strong and it's familiar."

"...Let go of me." I mutter, grabbing the hand and finally yanking it off.

Blanche stood back upright, hands on her hip as her glare smolders down onto my hand. If I was in her shoes, I don't think I could blame her. In my old timeline, if anyone saw the mark Morgan and I had, they'd try to kill us on reflex. It's why we learned to wear stuff that covered it up… or try to remove it entirely. Whenever we tried that, thought, it always just came back when the skin healed. Like nothing even happened.

I never thought about what life in Valm must have been like. Ylisse had the Falchon and Lucina. We had hope because we knew if we could just get close enough, we could kill Grima and end it all. But the people in Valm had next to nothing. Tiki couldn't save everyone, and in this timeline she wasn't even here to protect them at all. They were alone… and it was all my family's fault.

Blanche gives me one last look of contempt, hands curling into fists before she starts to leave. But in that last moment I can see the sorrow behind her anger. Maybe she was a bit different before the risen came here. More like Cherche, a bit softer? Hm… I suppose I was too before it call came crashing down around me.

She deserves an explanation. Half of one.

"My Dad wasn't just Plegian." I call behind her, making her stop in her stride. I keep digging around in my head for what Aunt Aversa told me about his past. "He was nobility. My Grandmother ran with him when he was younger."

The Cleric scoffs in disbelief. "Why would a noble flee their own nation? Especially those who were ranking members of the Cult?"

"To get away from my Grand-dad." I rub my neck a bit, trying to see if the psycho left a mark. "He was bone-fide insane. The things he did to my father and my aunt were… nightmarish."

"The Cultists did these things even to their own kin?" She still doesn't buy it, but at least she's facing me again.

"Why in the hell do you think Morgan and I hate the Grimleal so much?" I spit back, my anger coming to me again. "They torture everyone! It doesn't matter if you're with them or against them, you suffer! "

"And who was your Grandfather to do these things? He must've been quite insane."

"You have _no idea._ " I mutter under my breath, before speaking up again. Better not say who exactly my _illustrious_ ancestor is. "All I know is he's someone I'm never going to be like. And I've got this stupid birthmark to warn me about that." She still doesn't seem very sure about things, so I just roll my eyes. "Ask Virion or your cousin if you don't believe me. But I'm not one of those maniacs, I've spent my entire life dealing with their stupidity. Longer than you."

"Hrm. Right, you and your sister came from another time." Her face curls back up into its usual amused smirk, probably reacting to my jaw dropping into my lap. "You really think they wouldn't inform _me_ of all people? It isn't like anyone else knows, dear. Besides, your parents in this world are far too young to have children your age."

I scoop my face back together, putting on the best scowl I can given the circumstances. "...If you know we're from a different world, then you know what we went through. And you _know_ I'm not Grimleal."

"Perhaps, Severa. Perhaps." She finally concedes, using my name for the first time. "Let's say I believe you. That you aren't one of Grima's servants, hm? Why are you even here? You could have easily just left. Instead you joined a war you have no stake in."

"Virion's a close friend to my mother. My sister is here protecting this place. Soldiers from _my_ Kingdom are here." I move out of the bed, rubbing my throat carefully as I feel the imprint of her fingers. She didn't want to kill me, but Gods did she leave one helluva mark. "And even though you won't believe me, because it's the right thing to do. I'm not gonna run from suffering."

"Strike me down. Is that sincerity coming from the most sarcastic woman I've ever met?" She asked, genuinely surprised too by the way her eyes widened. "DIdn't think you had it in you."

"Bite me." I lower my hand from my neck, looking towards the door. "You can leave now, I'd rather go to sleep without you trying to kill me again."

"Dear, if I wanted you dead your corpse would already be in a pyre." Blanche finished, giving me a backhanded wave as she made her way out of the room.

As the door slammed behind her, I groaned out loud and looked around me.

 _Where did I put those gloves…_

* * *

"What do you mean _she knows?"_

The next day I left the keep and found Morgan, grabbing her from a council meeting and dragging her out to the city market. This wasn't exactly new, I dragged really anyone I could out to shopping sprees when I was stressed out. Spending money and buying every nice thing I saw just made me forget about my problems. Even if it meant I was walking back home with a ton of stuff I'd never use and an empty purse.

Today, that wasn't the case. The plan was to go shopping, but once we got to the market I decided that my heart just wasn't in it. Morgan, knowing me better than I know myself, took me by the arm and lead me to a corner cafe. About three coffees later and a mountain of pastries, I was wired enough to rattle off what happened the night before.

"She saw my mark, Morg. Made me rip off my gloves and show her." I answer in a low voice, scarfing down another croissant. There weren't a lot of other patrons around, but that didn't mean we wanted the waitress to hear our little talk.

"Oh. Great. Perfect! **Utterly fantastic!** " Morgan throws her hands up, groaning at the sky as she rocks in her chair. "That's exactly what I need right now! The head of Roseanne's military not trusting either of us!"

"Would you pipe down?!" I hiss, leaning over the table and dragging her arms back down. "The last thing we need is to make a scene in public!"

"The last thing we needed was you showing her the _**brand of the Defile.**_ " She shot back, teeth grinding against each other like a blade against stone. She's… mad. Oh Gods she looks as angry as I usually do. Her eyes look like they want to set me on fire, and is she trying to rip a piece of the table out with her hands…? At least she's quieted down a decent bit. "You couldn't have just spun a lie or something? You really had to show her!?"

I grab another croissant and take a bite out of it, rolling my eyes in contempt. "She had an _axe_ and I was in a _hospital bed._ What did you want me to do, bleed on her?"

"Sev, if word gets out about Dad being… you know..."

"Blanche doesn't know about that. She doesn't even have a clue." I point out after swallowing. "All she knows is that Daddy and Grandma ran from Plegia because of our insane family."

"Hrng… fine." She admits, leaning across the table and grabbing some sort of cupcake. "At least my mark's somewhere you can't see easy. You got really bad luck having it show up on your hand."

"Mmhm. And how did Brady react when he saw _your_ mark the first time you two got touchy-feely?" I can feel myself grinning from ear to ear as reach for my mug of coffee, knowing she'll flip out.

"Sh-sh-shut up! Shut ALL the way up!" Her face is looking about as red as Leo's tomatoes, and instead of lifting her hands above her head she's waving them wildly in front of herself. "We aren't that that point yet! Furthest we've gotten is second base!"

Now it was my turn to gag. Well, spew. I end up doing a spit take of my coffee onto the floor. "I did NOT need that image in my head!" I protest after sucking in some air, trying to mentally scrub my brain. Oh, gross gross gross gross _gross._

"You're the one who brought up me sleeping with him!" She retorts.

"As a joke! No one wants to hear about their little sister getting-"

"Don't. Say it. Please." She groans again, this time resting her forehead on the table. Our mugs and the dishes clatter from the impact. "...We're off topic. Do you think we should be worried or not?"

I shrug nonchalantly, taking a sip of what's left of my coffee. "Eh, nah. She's not sure about us now, but I doubt she thinks we're a threat."

"And do you think she'll tell anyone else?" I can hear the edge in her voice as she lifts her head back up, like her entire world is crumbling apart.

I shake my head. "No. Not unless we prove we _are_ a threat. Which isn't going to happen for obvious reasons."

The tactician sighs in relief. "Good. OK, I can salvage this. Assuming you don't screw it up more."

 _...What did she just say?_ I think in disbelief, before saying it tensely.

"What did you just say?"

"You heard me, Sev. Your attitude causes problems." She answers bluntly. "I was hoping having a kid would make you chill out a bit, but I think it wound you up more."

Without thinking, I slam one of my hands against the table. This time half our silverware almost goes flying. "Oh come on! It's not like the past five years of my life were all sunshine and roses! I got sent to a place I didn't understand, looking for someone who I had _no_ idea what they looked like, nearly dying in another massive war-"

"You still haven't explained any of this to me." Morgan cut in, trying to pull her plate back to her side.

"Right." I grumble. "OK, you know how we went back in time?" Morgan rolls her eyes and nods. "It turns out Naga isn't the only person who can bend time and space."

That got her to stop being sarcastic. For the first time since we started this talk I had her undivided attention. "...Say again? Did you just say there's someone who's as powerful as Naga? As in, Queen Naga? The patron Goddess of our Kingdom who literally sent us back from a fiery hellscape?"

"Not as powerful as the holy mother, no." I correct once again. "But he took us to… an outrealm, I guess. He said he needed help saving his Kingdom, and it turned out his Kingdom was in a different world. Before we got there he even changed our appearances. Our haircolor, our brands, even our outfits. Heck, he gave Owain the shadowgift."

My sister goes wide-eyed, growing more intrigued as the story goes on. "You're kidding! A man had the power to take you, Inigo and Owain to an outrealm without a gate!? He gave you special powers to boot!?"

"One, it turned out he was a Dragon. Two, yeah he did all of that. I wouldn't believe it if you were telling me either. And three, you won't believe where we ended up." I nervously tap my fingers on my lap, trying to think of a way to explain where we ended up.

"What? What is it?" Morgan asks, physically and metaphorically on the edge of her seat.

I can't believe I'm doing this. "You remember those stories Mom and Dad read to us as kids? Y'know, about Nohr and Hoshido? Those two Kingdoms that were constantly fighting each other all the time?"

Again she nods. "Yeah. It's the most popular story on the continent. I'm pretty sure every kid around's been read the stories at least once in their lifetime."

"...We ended up in Nohr. Like, _Nohr_ Nohr. From the book and everything."

For the first time in my entire life, my hyperactive and hyperbolic little sister is completely at a loss for words. Her jaw doesn't drop, her eyes don't widen further. Actually, the opposite happens. She folds her arms over her chest, her eyes narrow at me, and her whimsical smile turns into an unimpressed frown.

"Bullshit." She states, and I just throw my head back and laugh. Of all the things that I thought would lose her, the fact that we were transported into a storybook world was what throws her for a loop. This is honestly perfect, I don't think I can stop laughing. And she seems to get the wrong message from my laughing too. "So where did you really end up? Jugdral? Elibe? That weird Tellus place?"

I manage to stop laughing sooner or later, shaking my head again. "Language... Since when did you have a sailor's mouth?"

"I'm a twenty-three year old army officer, when do you think I got one?" She answered with a deadpan. Hell, with _my_ deadpan.

Clicking my tongue, I pick the conversation back up. "OK, good point." I admit. "Not kidding though. We really did go to Nohr. I was even in the army there _._ Heck, I was a royal retainer again. Which in Nohr meant I also had to be an adjutant."

"Explains why you suddenly knew anything about logistics when you came back." Morgan commented, stroking her chin in though. "So Subaki's Nohrian?"

"No, he's Hoshidan." I point out, then respond before Morgan can cut in. "Yes, Hoshido's real too."

Morgan didn't look like she was buying anything I was saying, but she also knew I had no reason to lie to her about where I'd been so long. "So… wait, the stories said that there were three Dragons there. Dawn, Dusk and Silent… was the guy who brought you back one of them?"

"He was a Silent dragon. _The_ Silent dragon." I confirm.

"So… you met a god. A legitimate god."

"Yep."

"And he took you and two of our childhood friends into a world we only know about from stories and myths."

"Correct."

"And you married one of the people from this storybook world. _Plus_ you had a kid with him."

"Uh huh…"

"And you brought both of them back here after fighting in another massive war."

"About sums it up."

Another few moments of silence, before Morgan just facepalmed. "Severa, I love you, but sometimes you make me think you're crazy."

"Considering who's talking, I'd say that it runs in the family." I reply, smirking again.

"What've I ever done that's crazy?" Morgan asks.

"Smacking your head against a tome and a tent pole to try and get your memories back?" I recall. "Almost ripping off Yarne's ears because you thought he was fuzzy? _Force-feeding Brady bear gizzards?"_

Again my little sister throws her hands up, and again I can see the Waitress stare at us from inside the building. And yet again, I can't help but smile at the insanity of it all.

"Alright, alright! I get the point!"

* * *

 _ **A/N: In the future, maybe I'll write a novelization of Fates' Revelations path. There's plenty I always wanted to try and adjust in the story. But that's for another time.**_

 _ **I'm planning to release a one shot that takes place during the Awakening story in a few weeks so, keep your eyes out if you like my style of writing. I'll release the next chapter of this series out first though.**_

 _ **Until then**_

 _ **o/**_


	13. P-1: Ambivalence Renewed

No matter what world she found herself in, Caeldori always found peace in the air.

The sky was her last consistency, the great blue expanse surrounding and enveloping her in a blanket of comfort and familiarity. Clouds lazily hovering above her like nature's own parasols shielding her from the harsh sun. Wind curling and pressing against her at every turn, dip and dive. The simultaneous heat and cold of the high altitude, sending chills down her spine while also warming her core.

High up at the edge of the world, things were always so simple for the girl. There weren't any pressing matters to attend to, no practice drills to perfect or plans to draft. Work wasn't her companion, those were only numbered by her horse and her thoughts. The only place where her mind could be as clear as the expanse before her. One last consistency she held from her past.

If there was one thing that didn't seem to change from coming to this new world, it was that flying was the same. And flying was just about the last semblance of home she had left. Lessons from Princess Hinoka come back to her memory as she decided to be a bit of a dare-devil, whipping downwards at a reckless speed before performing a quick corkscrew, then looping up and around before leveling herself and her mount once more.

" **WOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"** She cheered, knowing that no one would ever hear it other than herself. In all this uncertainty, she at least remained the knight of the skies. The last Sky Knight in a world full of Pegasus Knights, carrying on her father's legacy and making one of her own. Nothing would ever change that, and she'd keep that title for as long as she could ride.

But the sun was moving past its zenith, and she had an appointment to keep. Last thing she needed was to upset her aunt of all people.

* * *

In the fields surrounding the city, Morgan sat on a solitary log in the middle of a long abandoned field as her Pegasus paced around it. Whoever owned this plot of land had either fled from or died in the last war, and there wasn't anyone around who felt like claiming it. Whatever crops grew here once upon a time had long since died and shriveled away, the rows remained untilled and unplowed. Instead of lines of growing produce, there was just weeds as far as the eye could see. Grass retaking what humanity had once claimed. Off in the distance, what was left of the farmhouse hung in a depressed slump. The roof was missing half its shingles, paint peeled from the outer walls, what window panes remained were broken in random forms.

Still, Morgan found solace that this place didn't seem to be brought to ruin directly from the hand of the conflict. Neglect killed this farmstead, not violence. If the original owners were still alive, the could come back. If new farmers made a home out of this place, it wouldn't be haunted by ghosts of the past. Moving on was still possible, for this farm, this country, and maybe for her as well.

She wasn't given the same mercy as the land around her, war had injured her directly. Severa warned that if her memories returned, she might not like what was once in her past. The world she and her companions flee'd from wasn't one you could reminisce fondly of, it hurt everyone who could remember it. And with her memories back, she couldn't help but compare the changes that they had all undergone.

Brady and Laurent remained similar, if not more morose. Yarne was obsessed with the survival of his species. Inigo went from a shy introvert to a shameless womanizer, if only to keep smiling through all the pain. Owain put on theatrics, pretending to be the hero he so desperately wished he was. Nah grew up before she was ready. Noire became even more meek. Kjelle just dove into her training, she became obsessed with strength. Gerome just gave up on the world, Lucina gave up on her own _humanity_. Severa… gods, her sister went from someone so sweet to someone so angry at the world.

A sharp, dry, annoyed laugh cut the air around her as it left her breast. Through it all she remained bubbly and aloof. Always cracking jokes and trying to be their positive one as the world burned around them. Someone had to do it, and being happy came easy to her even before she lost her memory. The benefit of being too young to remember her mother and her father before the died, it lessened the blow compared to everyone else. Plus she was the youngest in the group, everyone seemed to be relieved that she kept up some semblance of being a kid.

Still, with her memories renewed… her own personality was changing. She could see it herself, she smiled less. She hadn't pulled a prank in months, too much work and too much on the line. All her time was thrown into developing new strategies, keeping the people around her alive, being something for those same people to look up to. But colder then before, harsher. Not long ago she would never snap at anyone for anything, and yet over the past month she'd lost count at how many times she intimidated people out of her audience.

She was turning into her father. Her first one, from her own time. Cynical, calculating and focused. For Gods knows how long she wanted to be that person, he was her idol then and he still was now. But now that she was finally slipping into that mold, she realized just how much she wanted to remain her own person.

Flapping wings broke her out of her self reflection, her head snapped up to see the person she was waiting for out here to finally arrive. The white pegasus landing perfectly in front of her, wings folding at its sides before it's rider hopped down and gave the girl a careful pat on the side of it's long snout.

Caeldori's armor still confused Morgan. The spaulders of a Chon'sin Swordmaster, paired with the tunic of a myrmidon, encased in Valentian Pegasus knight armor. The outfit she arrived in was different, apparently she had gone to tailor to get a new set of clothing made for her. Apparently this set better reflected the outfit she wore in her old kingdom. If that was true, then their men must be very poorly armored. But far more mobile, Hoshido must focus more on speed and offense over holding the line.

"Sorry I'm late, Aunt Morgan! My head got a bit caught in the clouds." Caeldori apologized, bowing sharply to her elder and holding the pose until she was addressed. Her grandmother's red hair flowed around her, hanging towards the ground as she awaited permission for her to stand upright once more.

"Yeesh, you're formal. I'm your family, Caeldori, not a princess." Morgan responded with a cheeky smirk, politely returning the bow and rising in tandem with her tardy student. If only everyone else she spoke with was as polite as her. Another trait only matched by Cordelia's own cordial nature.

"In Hoshido we're taught to give reverence to our sensei. Er…" Her candice was broken as native tongue slipped out, spurring an embarrassed blush. "Teachers! Teachers, right."

"Caeldori. _Relax._ " Morgan comforted, her grin only growing larger as her junior kept sputtering about in front of her. "This isn't a test, it's a lesson. For someone who's usually so confident, you'd think you'd know not to wind yourself up for this."

The Sky Knight nodded, taking in a breath and centering herself. "I'm just hoping I get this right. I don't want to disappoint my parents _or_ you." She finally admitted.

Another dry laugh left the elder soldier. "Psssh, please. Have you _seen_ our family? I don't think we could disappoint if we tried." She stated, trying to reassure the doubtful knight and dissuade any doubts in her abilities.

Unfortunately her words had the exact opposite effect, pressing Caeldori's worries even further forward internally. She was constantly worried about not living up to her own standards, and being surrounded by people who were far out of her league never did much to calm those fears. She had to get this right, or else she'd just end up embarrassing everyone involved.

This time though, Caeldori had to be snapped out of her thoughts, a book being thrown at her and smacking into her chest. Caught off guard and off footing, she fell to the ground with an unceremonious flop as she tried to juggle the object in her hands. She landed on her rear, avoiding further embarrassment, her eyes shooting down as her face once again shared the same penchant as her hair.

Morgan's free hand shot up to cover her mouth, trying to suppress the laughter that came at such a silly sight. "Sorry, sorry!" She said, trying to convey some sort of apology over her schadenfreude. Her poor niece was a wreck as is, she didn't need to get kicked while she was down… in more ways than one.

Shaking her head, Caeldori finally looked at the book that rested in her hands. It was covered in hard brown leather, a golden lightning bolt emblazoned on the front. The thing was… heavy, denser than any of the novels she read in her spare time. Flipping it open she would see lines upon lines of green tinted script rushing down it's pages. The writing was packed together, filling almost every part of the parchment.

"Is this homework?" Caeldori questioned, confusion overtaking her previous embarrassment as she flipped through each page. The writing seemed to never end, going on and on in a nonsensical rampage of words. Meanwhile Morgan laughed openly, taking Caeldori's last statement as something of a joke before realizing she was all too serious.

"They didn't have tomes in Hoshido?" She asked curiously, coming forward and taking a cross-legged seat at the front of her company. She withdrew another book from her hip, placing it in her own lap.

Caeldori shook her head, sighing as she gave up on making sense of what was inside the thing and shut it closed. "No, our magic was more based on scrolls than anything else. They summoned animal spirits, not… actual lightning."

This was news, Morgan had never heard of magic like that before. "Animal spirits encased in scrolls… so, what, you channel energy into the scroll itself and it spurs the spirit out? Or do you have to say some kind of rite to get them moving?"

Caeldori laughed nervously, scratching the back of her head in embarrassment. "I uh… I don't know, actually! I never used any of them, just healing staffs. Sorry."

"Figures." Morgan grumbled, shrugging before pointing to the book that Caeldori still held tightly. "So you've never seen a spell tome before?"

"Well… some of the Nohrians had them. A friend of mine, Ophelia? She was a dark mage like her father, and she had a bunch of tomes." Caeldori explained, opening up her thunder tome once more and running a finger under one of the sentences. "I just… never knew that _this_ was what was inside them."

Morgan smiled, she always enjoyed the reactions of people who didn't know much about anima magic finally having to see the work she had to memorize to even get a spark of lightning out of her fingertips. "Wonderful. Well… you were half-right. You're going to need to try and memorize what's in this tome if you ever want to be able to use it to its full extent. But you're a reader, so that shouldn't be a problem right?"

That revelation caused all color to drain from Caeldori's face. A book this large would take her a solid week to read through, and triple that to memorize it. She just bought a new set of books from the town market too, this world had a plethora of romance novels she could just lose herself in.

The girl groaned as she realized how much of her free time she was going to sacrifice just to learn a new skill. But she felt a hand settle on her own, and her gaze focused upon her aunt's reassuring smile. "Hey, I'm not gonna leave you out to dry here. I'm gonna teach you _everything_ you need, and I'll help you whenever you get stuck. Alright?"

The ghost of a smile crept up on Caeldori's face, and she nodded in agreement. This wasn't going to be easy, but she'd already done plenty on her own to try and become the perfect sky knight. Now she had help, and that was enough to make her feel ready for whatever came next.

"Good." Morgan confirmed, taking her own tome in hand. She rose to her feet, wiping a grass-stain off of her purple-colored skirt before signalling for Caeldori to do the same. "Now, try and memorize the first few pages while we walk to a little practice range I've set up. Your pegasus and mine can entertain each other for a bit."

The two redheads walked together across the barren field, dirt and long dead plants crunching beneath both of their boots. They made their way to the side of an old barn house, bottles and old refuse sitting on the dilapidated window sills. They were freshly placed by Morgan, targets for Caeldori to practice the bare basics on.

"Right, so. Before we begin, a crash-course." Morgan noted before drawing out her tome once more, a long lightning lance imprinted on the cover. She flipped the book open, casually fluttering through the pages as she set herself up in front of a wheelbarrow off to the side. "Magic's made up of what mages and sages call the Trinity. Light, Anima and Dark. Each has its own characteristics and uses, as well as its benefits and drawbacks."

She waited to make sure that Caeldori was following along to continue. Thankfully the girl came well prepared, a notebook and quill already working wildly to keep up with her instructor's instructions. "Light magic's the first category. Depending on who you talk to they might call it holy magic or healing magic. Staves are imbued with this stuff, and people can be trained pretty easily to use them to heal wounds." She clicked her tongue. "Buuuuut, its not just useful for healing wounds. You can weaponize it with the right tome, rare as they are. And they are really, **really** strong too. _Especially_ against dark magic. Anima magic can dispell light magic pretty easily though."

"Why are the tomes so rare?" Caeldori asked, not looking up as she kept jotting down notes from the lesson. "Wouldn't something so powerful be made readily available? It seems like a waste of a potent resource."

Morgan wagged a finger. "Good question, my young pupil." She answered jokingly, much to Caeldori's chagrin. "It's called holy magic for a reason, in order to use the stuff you need to be an exceptionally strong cleric or sage. One of Naga's own chosen, honestly."

"And Naga is…?" Caeldori asked, giving her aunt a quick look.

"Naga is the Goddess of this world. Bluntly put she's the most powerful dragon to ever exist, she's the patron goddess of Ylisse actually." Morgan continued to lay out. "The power isn't the surprising thing, she's… honestly the most benevolent being you could imagine. Kind beyond comprehension, and she's willing to help people no matter what. I've only met one woman as compassionate as her."

"You talk like you've met this Goddess in person, Aunt Morgan." Caeldori pondered in disbelief, her quill finally going still.

"...There's a lot of things you need to learn, Caeldori." Morgan answered ambiguously, pressing onto the next topic as her observer looked on in confusion. "Next: Anima magic." She rattled off as the trainee resumed her scribbling. "This is the most natural magic in the world, it takes the form of different elements at varying strengths. For example..." She flourished the tome still open in her grasp. "This, is a heavy lightning tome. The one I gave you-" She pointed to the book now hanging off of Caeldori's hip. "-is a thunder tome. Both are imbued with thunder magic, but mine is a heck of a lot stronger than yours."

"Will I get to try yours out?" Caeldori asked excitedly, taking a moment to beam up at the magical book in question.

"No, because I'd rather you not blow yourself up. Explaining that to Severa would give me a migraine." She pointed out, causing Caeldori to blanche once more and return to her notetaking. Morgan coughed into a fist, continuing on. "Last we have dark magic, or elder magic. You are never going to use this, period. Under any circumstances."

"Because it's evil, right?" Caeldori chirped.

"It's a spell, dear. Magic's a tool, it's only as evil as the person who uses it." Morgan states bluntly. "No, because it's corrosive. Using dark magic extensively can really, _really_ screw with your mind. People who don't know how to control it can go bonafide nuts. Hell, the people who do know how to control it _are_ bonafide nuts."

"But… the dark mages I knew weren't crazy." Caeldori exclaimed, pausing as she thought back on the Nohrian mages from Corrin's army. "Well, they were a little bit, but not in a dangerous way. Just… zany? And nice, too! A couple girls I knew, Ophelia and Rhajat, they were nice! Sure Ophelia was pretty flamboyant and Rhajat was… Rhajat..."

"Different world, remember? Different magic too, probably." Morgan rationalized, this news surprising her more than the animal spirits from Hoshido. Dark mages being _nice_? That didn't really seem possible, especially after what it felt like the first time she ever used a nosferatu tome. The memory of that was still terrifying, it was like the whole world lost color for Gods knows how long after she activated the spell. Henry and Tharja were both really, really bleak characters too, and after experiencing once what they went through every day… no, it must be different in their world…

Caeldori sighed once more, writing a final note into her book. "OK, no dark magic tomes. No light magic tomes because I probably can't use them. So you're only gonna show me how to use anima tomes?"

"Getting your head around anima tomes'll probably take you a lifetime. Heck, outta my friends, I'm not even the most powerful mage!" Morgan stated, before looking back towards the wheelbarrow. "But I'll still give you a demonstration." She waved Caeldori off, signaling for her to step back a few feet.

Once she complied, Morgan fixed her eyes onto her target. She dug both of her riding boots into the dirt, running her hand across the open pages of the tome. Slowly, the energy from the words flowed from the paper, seeping into her hand and filling her form. With a deep breath, she mentally prepared herself, keeping her eyes locked on the forlorn piece of farming equipment, before jumping into action. The dark flier did a quick twirl, pivoting around clockwise on her right foot sharply before extending her arm forward with an open palm.

" **THORON!"** Morgan bellowed out, a long spear of jagged golden yellow firing itself out of her hand and blasting air out around her. The pages on the tome flipped freely, her crimson hair fluttering as the bolt of lightning screamed forward at the wheelbarrow. On impact, the unfortunate relic exploded into a thousand flaming pieces, flying everywhere with reckless abandon. Nothing remained where it was, just a smoldering heap of scorched wood.

Caeldori watched the scene unfold before her completely enraptured, shock and awe washing over her as the raw power manifested itself. The smell of the burning wood found its way to her nose, bringing her back to reality after a minute of slack-jawed gawking. "D-do you have to say the name?"

Morgan snorted, the green tint fading away from a section of the book as it's magic was used up. "Heck no, it just sounds a thousand times cooler when you do." She explained simply.

Caeldori could only nod in compliance, shuffling to her aunt's side and opening up her own tome. The green still emanated from the entirety of it's script. "So… how do I do that?"

"You don't, I gave you a weaker tome. When you use that, it should generate a small sphere of magic you can shoot out of your palm. Think of it as a… magic rock projectile." Morgan sniggered at the disappointment that was clearly apparent on Caeldori's face. "Baby steps, Caeldori, baby steps."

"Fine, fine." Caeldori acquiesced, placing a hand on one of the pages. "So, how do I do that?"

Morgan pondered the explanation for a moment, before properly putting it into words. "Focus on the energy you feel on the pages, remember the words and picture them in your mind. Then just channel the magic from the book, through one arm, out the other. Think of your body like a… water pipe, the magic's the water and you're the pipe. Sound good?"

Caeldori hummed, doing as she was instructed. The knight focused as best she could on the words she memorized, letting them manifest in her thoughts as she looked towards one of the bottles resting on the barn's window sill. For the first time she felt the energy pulsing out from the tome, moving in a rhythm on the page. Almost as if the magic was alive and had a mind of its own. But… it wasn't going into her. It just kept brushing against her hand, then flowing back down. Like it was refusing to enter her form, or something was blocking it from slipping into her.

"Um…" She looked at Morgan, the elder of the two's brow creased in thought.

"...It's like your mother said, your aura's out of whack." Morgan noted. "I can sense the energy, it's trying to go in, but something is blocking it. That 'thing' is your aura." Caeldori sighed in defeat, shutting the tome as Morgan kept explaining the phenomenon. "Aura's basically the magic that's in you. It acts like a conductor during spells, but it also acts as a shield from magic. It's why a spell doesn't just light people on fire or cut them to pieces if they're hit by it every time, if their aura's strong enough then they build a resistance."

"So… my aura's stopping me from using the tome?" Caeldori questioned.

Morgan nodded. "Most pegasus knights are drilled spiritually to have a higher resistance in their aura. It keeps them alive in the sky when a mage tries to shoot them down."

Caeldori muttered in acknowledgement. "We… did something like that in Hoshido. But it was called chi, not aura. Sky knights focus it so we can center ourselves better when flying… come to think of it, diviners tend to have stronger chis themselves."

Morgan bobbed her head to the left and right, lifting both her hands in a 'either-or' motion. "Probably the same logic, then. Your aura, or chi or whatever, it's been trained to act as a resistor. But… you're different, your aura's not blocking it actively. It's… really really wild."

"And why would that be?" Caeldori asked, suddenly worried.

"Usually, it's emotional state." Morgan pointed out. "But that can't be it, you seem pretty balanced. Nervous, sure, but nothing that'd cause _this_ much disruption." Caeldori shook her head, sheathing the tome on her hip once more as disappointment and shame wrapped itself around her. Morgan's frown grew, and she put a hand on her niece's shoulder. "It's not the end of the world, alright? Not like I expected you to start shooting death from your fingertips in one day." She comforted. "Let's just get back to the castle, your parents're probably waiting for us."

So the two pegasus riders made their way back to their mounts, across the ruined fields. Both the white and black animals were amongst each other where they had left them, grazing on the fresh grass that the two had sat upon just an hour prior.

Both moved to ready their horses, Morgan having taken Caeldori's thunder tome back. She slipped the thing back into the satchel on her saddle, making sure her personal leven sword and steel spear were safely fixed in place. Behind her she could hear the younger girl coddle her horse, softly petting it while speaking into her ear.

"You've really taken to her." Morgan observed, smiling genuinely. Caeldori turned around, keeping her hands resting on the main of the pegasus as she shared the expression. "It's always nice to see a rider bond with a mount."

"She's just like my old horse back home, Temari. Bit of a prima donna, and she's got the same monster appetite. But down in her heart she's so kind, arencha girl?" Caeldori gave the horse a quick scratch under its nose, the ride whinnying happily.

"Well." Morgan rested herself against Caeda, the black pegasus snorting as her master used her as a backrest. If a pegasus' eyes could roll, her's probably did then. "You give her a name yet? Caeda hated it when I used to call her 'horsie' as a kid."

"Hinoka." Caeldori answered. "She was one of my teachers in Hoshido. Eldest princess of the royal family. One of the best warriors I ever knew, and she was… a good sensei." The girl fondly reminisce. "Not just with combat, but she was kind to me. She helped me out whenever I had a problem I was too embarrassed to talk with my parents about. My books, or art, or… boys." That last admittance made her blush a bit.

Morgan chuckled once more. "Ohhh yeah, _never_ talk to your parents about boys. I still haven't even spoken to your grandmother about _my_ love-life. Though I'll probably have to burn that bridge when I get home." Caeldori giggled at her aunt's commentary, the sound jingling like music in Morgan's ears. "...You really do miss your world, don't you?"

Caeldori nodded somberly, her happy smile remaining but… saddening noticeably. "I still dream about home. I remember the cherry blossom trees, they had these pink flowers? Like nothing you've ever seen before, every spring they just filled the countryside with beauty. And… my friends. From Hoshido _and_ Nohr. Sure, they were crazy, but they were always there. And we went through so much together… plus… there was…"

"There was a boy." Morgan deducted.

Caeldori nodded in confirmation, laughing softly at the recollection. "His name was Asugi, he was the son of a ninja in the army. He was more of a thief than a soldier, though… and a bit of a slob too. And he always tried to skip out on his duties! But… I don't know, one day I caught him making a mess in the kitchen. I yelled at him about his clothes and not meeting regulations. After that I started helping him bake things, little treets and candies? We started spending a lot of time with each other, then one thing led to another…"

"I understand, trust me." Morgan confided. "My boyfriend didn't trust me when I first showed up. He thought I might of had uh… undesirable intentions. So he avoided me for a while. But I kept dogging him, on and on… eventually I helped him out of a bind. After that we started talking, then one day he just admitted he liked me. It's probably the happiest memory I have here."

Caeldori hummed, understanding her aunt's words all too well. She took in a breath, going to mount Hinoka's back. Morgan did the same with Caeda, giving the girl a soft pat. "Mother told me you and her came from a different time. Did you ever want to go back?"

Morgan froze as the question hit her eardrums, shocking her to her core. Suddenly everything lined up for her all at once, Caeldori's shakey mood, her inability to use magic, her shakey aura. How didn't she see it sooner? It was obvious from the way the girl carried herself.

Silence rang between them, Caeldori looked at her aunt with worry. Did she say something she shouldn't't have? Did she touch a sore nerve by accident? She had a record of being too blunt for her own good, but it had been a long time since she'd made someone clam up completely.

"You're not just homesick, are you?" Morgan questioned, craning her head over to look at her niece. "You regret coming here."

Now it was Caeldori's turn to sit in shocked silence, averting her eyes immediately. Her first instinct was to fly off as fast as she could, but Morgan was a good enough rider to catch her eventually. She could just not answer, or lie. It'd be easier… and she wouldn't have to worry about her parents finding out.

...No, no it wouldn't. She kept this inside her for the past few months now, and it was starting to tear her apart. The ambivalence of her decision was a rolling storm that never seemed to quiet itself no matter how much time passed.

She needed to let it out to someone. Anyone, and hope they'd understand.

"Mother told me this world was safe. That things would be peaceful, and _safe_. But from the moment we've gotten here it's just been constant conflict and fighting. We spent our first month running away from an army, now we've spent this one getting ready for a war." She released, just like how she had to her mother at that meeting in Nellis. "I gave up everything for her. My job, my friends, the man I loved, for what? For another world on fire, just after I saved the last one? I nearly got killed how many times, I had to fight a God for crying out loud. Now I'm here doing it all over again. What am I, some sort of cosmic maid fixing everything when it breaks!?"

Silence retook the world around them. Not even the wind or their pegasi dared to break it. The air chilled, and for a brief moment the earth itself stood still for the two riders in that forlorn field.

"You love your mother. But you hate her at the same time." Morgan said for her.

"...I'm a horrible daughter, aren't I?" Caeldori asked in a small voice, a tear falling down her cheek. Hinoka shifted nervously underneath her, the pegasus' head craning up and staring somberly at her master's disparaged expression.

"Don't even think that." Morgan said quickly, having her pegasus trot over. She leaned across, giving the girl the best hug she could. "Not for a moment. I don't think that, neither Subaki _or_ Severa do either. You're not a horrible daughter."

"B-but… what kind of daughter has feelings like this!?" Caeldori asked, choking a sob into Morgan's shoulder as she returned the embrace tightly. "My mother hasn't _done_ anything wrong. She didn't force me to come here! She said she'd understand if I stayed! She didn't even try to guilt me or anything! She just said that she had to come back! A-and father decided to g-go with her… I couldn't just abandon them..."

"You got put into an impossible situation… and you're not the first person to feel like this." Morgan affirmed, lifting her sleeve to try and dry the girl's face. Caeldori lifted her head to allow it, confused at Morgan's odd statement. "You have a _lot_ more in common with your mother then you think, she has a… complicated relationship with your grandmother."

Caeldori nodded, deciding not to press that subject. Something told her it wasn't a topic that was readily discussed anyway. "...I don't know if I regret this or not. I just wish I never had to choose to begin with."

Morgan nodded once more, keeping her arms wrapped tightly around the smaller girl. The two stayed there for a long time, just holding each other. The dry wind danced around them, ruffling their hair and chilling their skin. But they didn't seem to care, they just rested in place, comforted in the other's arms.

Caeldori finally found someone from this world she could bond with, after being afraid for so long she couldn't find anyone in this scary new world.

Morgan knew she wasn't alone in her own thoughts, and she could finally stop being a commander and just be herself.

It was a sad moment, but it was also inside them both, the twin fliers found something they both needed desperately through it all.

Solace.

* * *

 _ **A/N: I've wanted to write this chapter ever since I introduced Morgan into the story.**_

 _ **Caeldori borrows heavily from Subaki and Cordelia by default, so I do try to make it clear how innate it is that Severa is her mother. Not just in hair color, but in personality and worldview. The reason why I had Robin be her grandfather was to give her more than just two outlets to bounce off of in this story. To keep a sense of a family unit through the narrative beyond just her mother and father. Who knows how she'll act if she ever runs into her grandmother? Or her grandfather, eh?**_

 _ **Coming up next, I'll be posting a separate Awakening campaign one-shot! It's gonna take place right after Lucina tries to take Robin's head off when he hands over the Fire Emblem. Seem sound interesting? Keep an eye out for a new story called 'Unforeseen Consequences'.**_

 _ **Until next chapter, everyone.**_


	14. C-11: Death do us Part

That night I wander back into the realm of my dreams. So many of my thoughts these days focus on my time in Valla. The people I met, the things I did, the stuff I saw.

My memories gravitate to the first year after Valla was formed. When the dust finally settled and peace was brokered between all three of the countries. I was walking with Corrin in the courtyard, nervous at where I was. It was my first time doing the job Anakos brought me over to do, be one of her retainers.

"You're edge Selena. Think someone's watching us?" She asked me as we made our way out of the castle. One of her routine walks through the gleaming new capitol's streets as her new subjects got settled in. Inigo, Owain, Kaze and I took turns escorting her, and that afternoon I was the lucky pick.

"It's a big city full of refugees from a massive, near cataclysmic war. I know someone's watching us." I answered. It was a half-truth, back then I was more worried about being around Corrin then I was about uninvited company.

See, when we first found out Corrin was really Anakos' child, we took it in different ways. Owain viewed it as a stroke of fate, going on and on about how we were destined to come together this way. Inigo was taken off guard, but at that point he already had his own jobs as a parent at the forefront of his mind. As for me, well, I thought the three of us looked like complete idiots. We came to protect Corrin, and at some point all three of us had tried to chop her in half. Not exactly our finest hours.

It didn't help that it was around that time Subaki and Caeldori had made their way back to Hoshido. My Husband still had his old duties protecting Hoshidan royalty, and my _daughter_ wanted to try joining the Sky Knights officially. It was the first time we'd been separated since we became an item and… let's just say I wasn't handling it very well.

"Just stay close to me, your highness." I mutter, sticking to her front and keeping my hand rested right on top of my sword.

"You know that walking around like this is a battlefield's going to just antagonize people, right?" Corrin quipped, moving forwards to stand at my side. She always insisted that she made these surveys completely unarmed. Kept saying she couldn't rule a kingdom if she didn't try and be open with the subjects. The girl was still annoyingly good-willed for my tastes.

"Milady, you're the third royal I've had to guard in my life. How about you let me take the reigns here?" I plead. If she ended up getting hurt on my watch, I'd never live it down. It was bad enough we weren't there when she needed us the most.

"How about you use my name instead of titles? It makes me sound stiff." Corrin answered back, pointed ears twitching at the sting of my tone. "Last I checked we were supposed to be friends."

"We're also in public, Corrin." I grumbled in protest, relaxing my grip around the handle of my rapier. She was far too carefree for someone who'd just went through a war. Hell, a war where she had to end up committing patricide. I never understood how someone could always be so calm all the time.

"You need to _relax_." She continued, smiling at me brilliantly. Corrin always had this disarming charisma about her, and it was honestly because she always came off as so genuine. It's hard to get angry at someone who never seems to lie or cheat people. I don't even think she knew how. "You can't always be this wound up, it's bad for your health."

"Because it's my job, duh. You're supposed to be the one all calm and serene, I'm the scary person with the sword." I rattle off. I can see her eyes rolling as I speak, clearly not buying a single word I said. Doesn't make what I said any less true, though. "If you don't like how I'm handling things, we can always have Kaze take my place."

"I don't want you gone, Selena." The Queen responded, gazing in front of us once more as we just kept walking down the street. Above us we saw a few heads poking out of some tenement windows. Hoshidan and Nohrian refugees trying to get a glimpse of their new nation's leader. I'd expected them to want to stay as far away from each other as possible, but they just seemed to grab whatever housing they could find.

"Yeah. Well…" My shoulders sag, and I finally take my hand off of the hilt of my weapon. Not like I could hit any of them from down here anyway. "Just don't give me guff for trying to keep you in one piece, eh? I'm the best retainer you have now."

"Wouldn't dream of it." Corrin dismissed, waving up to a few members of the onlookers above. A few dared to return the gesture, doing their best to seem presentable to the most powerful woman in the city. All the while I just kept my glare level. "But can you at least tell me what's bothering you?"

"It's…" I sighed, trying to straighten myself up. "It's nothing. I'll get over it."

Corrin's mouth opens again, but words don't come out this time. Instead three, strong smacks ring through my ears.

My dream world shatters and I bolt upright in my bed, the sheets slipping off of me. Subaki starts to stir at my side, mumbling something incoherent in his own language. Someone calls through the door, it sounds male and young… Percy…?

" **Miss Severa, Mister Subaki!"** I hear him cry, making my ears themself wince from the pain. I drag myself from the bed and grab a light tunic, pulling it over my head and letting it hang past my hips. What does this twerp want this late? I don't need company right now.

I rip the door open to glare the boy down, only to see a rather grizzly sight. Both sleeves of his Priest tunic are rolled up to the elbows, with red splashed across his forearms. Behind him I can see a clear trail of sporadic sanguine, leading off towards the stairs of the tower itself. And the smell, Gods the smell of iron's already taking over my senses.

Before I can even ask, Percy grabs me by the hand and starts dragging me off towards the stairs.

* * *

My vision is getting blurry before I even see the doorway to the treatment room.

The stench of iron, medicines and chemicals are wafting out from under the door, filling the outer hallway like an invisible cloud. I can barely breath right, and it's like a hundred sewing needles're taking turns at my eyes. Doesn't help that this twerp keeps tugging me along like he's a kid in a candy store. He hasn't even explained why he's brought me here.

Percy doesn't bother to change that, either. Once we're at the doorway, he just lets go of me and motions for me to sit down in the room adjacent. The door was already propped open, and could hear a chair rocking within. "I need to clean up inside, please wait here for a few minutes." He asks. Well, states. His voice seems too dead and tired to even form a question.

"If I wasn't still half-asleep, I'd whoop you for even touching me. Forget about dragging me down back here." I hiss. Percy quickly brings his hands up to block any strikes, seems like he's gotten a pretty good impression of me. "Why am I even here? Do I look like a doctor?"

"C-commander Volkner asked me to bring you!" He stammers, peaking his eyes over his arms like a prairie dog scanning out of a hill. Mentioning my sister puts me on a bit of a back foot, but now he actually starts backing away to the infirmary door. "Just, wait here! I need to get back to work!"

He scurries off like a mouse, the door flaps behind him and gives me another blast of the stench to my face. Morgan probably wanted me to go through another set of check-ups. It's like she's turned into a shorter version of Mother, how much she freaks out about about my well being now. Everyone always has to treat me like I don't know what's best for myself. It's not like I'm a kid who likes running around with knives.

Y'know what? I'm gonna give her a piece of my mind after I'm done here. I'm really sick of getting treated like a moron.

I go into the room, and it's as bare bones as you'd expect. A few chairs around a table with couple books. Some storage for extra tools that the hospice might need. Another exit that leads somewhere else, but it looks locked so I don't pay much attention to it. No windows, makes sense saying we're underground. Stuffy too, my guess is this place is storage first and resting place second. Nothing remarkable at all.

What really catches my eye, is the brat.

He's got a familiar look about him. Sharp, angled features with brown eyes. Shirt and pants he's wearing look like something a wyvern rider would put on. Some mark's under his right sleeve, maybe a bruise or whatever. Dark blue hair that's a uncouth mess around his head. He looks like he's spent the past hour falling through the sky, there's still a few leaf scraps resting in the mix. He can't be any older than five… he should be in a nursery school, not here alone.

Again that maternal instinct of mine kicks in. I creep over in front of him as he just sits there, rocking back and forth in the chair. When he sees me, his head piques up so fast it's ridiculous. Then again, I'm a random woman wearing a long shirt over her smallclothes coming out of nowhere. Plus I think he's old enough to know that I'm prettier than most.

The smile on his face is… hell, infectious. When I crouch down on my toes, I gotta stop myself from doing the same. It's like the only thing on his mind is a beam of sunshine and puppies. Let's see how fast I can change that.

"So what're you doing here, pipsqueak?" I ask, and he immediately starts pouting. "You don't look sick. Trying to snag some candies from the Priests?"

"Nuh uh! They already gave me some!" He protests, digging his hands into his pockets and popping out a wrapped caramel. Looks fresh, too. Makes my stomach grumble. The sound just makes him flash that dopey grin again, and he holds it over to me. "Here ya go lady. I've got plenty!"

"Huh… thanks." Not gonna say no to free candy, I unwrap the thing and pop it into my mouth. Sweet, like I expected. Think there's a bit of chocolate in the center too. "So, you got your candy. Why're you here?"

"Uh… well…" His eyes look back and forth across the room, and I can feel him shrink a little into his chair. "Mommy and Daddy are inside. Some bad people hurt them while we were coming here, and the doctors said they're gonna make them better!"

Kid's taking his parents getting laid out better than I would've at his age. Not sure if he's this aloof or if he's putting on a brave face. Or, maybe they aren't that injured. Probably some refugees who got smacked around a few days ago by those kidnappers. "Well if they said they will, then I'm sure they will." I answer, and the smile turns back up to full force. No need to worry him about his parents now anyway.

"So what's your name pipsqueak?" I probe, wanting to pass the time until Percy comes to grab me.

"It's not _pipsqueak!_ " He crossing his arms over his chest and puffing it out. "It's Jaques! Jaques the Wyvern rider!"

"Yeah. You ride wyverns. And I'm the Empress of Chon'sin." I roll my eyes, sitting down onto the floor in front of me and resting back onto my palms. "I'm gonna call you Jack instead. You mind?"

He shakes his head again. "That's my nickname! It's what Mommy calls me when we're riding together."

That explains a lot, he's mimicking his parents. "Oh, so your _mom_ rides wyverns then."

A third shake of the head, his attention's more focused on the candy he's fuddling with than me. "Nope. Daddy does! But Mommy lets me ride her pegasus with her!" He explains, my heart sinking a bit as a dark feeling starts churning in my gut. "They both said once I'm big enough, I get to find my own wyvern to ride!"

"That's… neat." I manage out, trying to ignore the chill running up my spine. It's just a coincidence, it has to be. Stop always thinking about the worst case scenario, this is why no one likes you. "...Jack, why was your family coming here?"

"Visit my grand-folks." Jack replied nonchalantly, finally throwing a new caramel in my mouth. As he lifts his arm up I can catch a glimpse of what's on his arm. It's a birthmark, that's for sure. Big… kind of distinct to.

Right as my brain finally adds it all together, I can hear a knock at the door. Percy pokes his head inside. That damn smell's back again from the other room, it's stronger now too. Foreboding, like a pair of fresh corpses.

"The Commander's waiting for you Miss Severa." The blonde boy gets out, and I nod. One last look to Jack, I give him a smile and pick a few leafs out of his hair. He returns the favor, passing me another caramel before he goes back to nibbling on his.

Please, let me be wrong.

* * *

…

This isn't right. None of this is right.

This can't be how it all turns out for them. Not after everything. This isn't how the story's supposed to end.

Both of them look so out of place here, laid out like this. Sheets pulled over tight like a shroud. Skin's pale. Mouths half open, I can't even tell if they're breathing. Eyes closed and still. Not people, like a pair of lifelike dolls that someone spent too much time making. Getting all the details right, but they just didn't know how to make them seem lifelike.

I keep expecting them both to just wake up. Say something to me after all these years. Ask me about where I've been. Talk about what I've missed. Tease'em both until they're red in the face like always. Just like old times, finally get some semblance of normalcy back in my crazy life.

But they don't. They can't.

Morgan's sitting in a chair at the front of both beds. She's hunched over, mouth leaning into her interlaced fingers. Her tactician's cloak is hanging loosely around her shoulders, no armor to be found. I can't even see her face, but I know what she's feeling well enough. Not angry, or sad. Not morose or upset. Not even regretful.

Just… numb.

"Another Valentian scouting group, probably." Morgan proposes as I drag another chair to sit next to her. She keeps her posture, and I just lean back as I take in Gerome and Cynthia's lifeless vessels. "After I attacked them with Cherche, they probably brought archers as insurance." She nods her head slightly over towards the fallen Princess, their hair violently contrasting each other's even now. "Five arrows to the back. The way she was arced over, the Priests think she was shielding someone small. She wasn't even wearing armor."

"She still would've looked like a threat in the dark." I comment, and I can see Morgan's head slowly bob up and down.

"Gerome was the same way. No armor, arrows shot up. Went right into his guts." She keeps explaining. I want to know, and I don't want anything to do with it at the same damn time. "They both stayed conscious enough to get their mounts facing the direction of Roseanne. Rest was instinct from Minerva and Palla's part."

I grunt in acknowledgement. My eyes shut, look at either of them is just a nightmare. "And how're they?"

"Minerva's wings got clipped. Hurt, but she'll live." I can hear a sigh come from her before the next bit of news. "Palla's dead. Moment she landed in the courtyard, the guards say she fell over and went still. Both her legs were basically shot out from under her."

The idea of the old pegasus finally going down, somehow, ends up being the straw that breaks it all for me. Morgan's chair creaks, maybe she's trying to take a look at me as I can feel a few tears come down.

In the old world, Palla was Queen Sumia's old steed. One day she found her way back to Ylisse without her rider, and instead she found a new one instead. The grey horse was like the pet for everyone in the Shepards then. We'd take turns feeding her sugar cubes, once in a while I'd borrow her to practice my riding. Out of all the Pegesi I've flown in the years… she was always the one that gave me the biggest chance. Next to no bucking, smooth rides. Like she understood what I was going through. An unlikely friend in a world where friends were way too uncommon.

"Blanche said she doesn't know when they'll wake up." Morgan continues, stirring me conscious once more. "Best they did was make them comfortable and fix what they could. But they've both lost way too much blood."

"Just stop." I spit out, gritting my teeth. "Stop it. Stop listing this off like some sort of drone."

"I thought you'd want to know." Morgan answers, monotone as ever. As I open my eyes I see her expression is what I expected. Still, neutral, focused. Eyes going back and forth between some of our two oldest friends in the world. No emotion at all, like she's reading one of her treatises on tactics.

I don't think I need to say why this bit ticks me off. My expression must give it away, because once her eyes rotate back to me she immediately looks back over to Cynthia.

"Did I tell you about the first memory I had restored?" Morgan asked out of nowhere, her eyes centering around the exalted rider. "It was when we were about Jaques' age. You met him in the other room, right?"

I don't dignify her with an answer, she obviously knows I did. "Cynthia and I were running around the castle when we found this massive bundle of worms squiggling around in the dirt. It was early in the morning so they weren't hard to spot. But we came up with an idea. Took the worms and went to the dining hall, and we saw Aunt Lissa making some pies."

"Let me guess, you thought the worms would help the uh… flavor?" I grumble, blinking my sadness back along with my anger.

Morgan nods. "Rhubarb pie was her favorite because she knew Chrom would never eat it. Usually split it between her and Owain. So when she left to wash up, we just… wormed a few into the filling." She snorts a bit, smirking at the memory. "Heh, worm. Good one." She laughs again, before continuing the story. "We watched her hand it off to Chrom. I think she was trying to prove that she wasn't a bad cook. Of course, she wore him down and he eventually grabbed a piece. Then he took one bite of the thing and…"

Her laughter sounds about as dead as her expression. Heck, it almost sounds like a cough. Dry and unwanted. "He ran off to find some water. Then Lissa took a piece, next thing we knew she was looking for a basin herself. Meanwhile we were just rolling on the floor, laughing."

"You two were a menace back then." I reminisce. When they were younger, everyone was a target for whatever whims came over them. Pranks, theatrics, experiments, sparring practice. The amount of times Lucina and I had to pull them out of messes was almost headache inducing. Every time there was a new story and a new excuse, as if neither could just stay still for five minutes. "Everything you did, you did it together. And most of the stuff you ended up doing got all four of us in trouble."

"Yeah… yeah." She muttered agreeingly, her nose flaring as she exhaled. "I miss those days."

"Me too." I say.

"...What are we gonna do sis?" She asks in a small, shaky voice. Her hands are shivering now. I drag my chair over, pushing down my own pain and wrapping my arms around her. Morgan just merges into my grasp, her head resting against my chest. "This wasn't supposed to happen. I was supposed to keep everyone safe."

"Don't you dare blame yourself for this." I affirm, running one of my hands through her bedraggled hair. "You don't have the right. They thought it was safe, and it wasn't. We can't change what happened."

"I… I know, but now what." The girl sniffs, brushing her nose with her arm. "Whoever hurt them is gone. We aren't ready for an attack yet. We don't have the men, or the equipment, or the supplies. We're all alone out here."

"We've made due with worse, haven't we?" This isn't the first time I've had to comfort her in a dark place, and I have a feeling it won't be the last while we're here. Our backs really are up against a wall, and we don't have any help coming anytime soon. "You're a genius, and I'm the best fighter in the world. Two of us together can't be beaten. So chin up, alright?"

I can feel her nodding her head up and down, the fabric of this tunic scrounging up from the friction. "...I miss Brady. I see them, and I see you and Subaki. I wish he was here to keep me company."

My first thought is to say that I'm sorry that I'm not good enough, but I figure complaining right now won't help the situation very much. Being this far away from someone, especially in her first relationship… it's probably been tearing her apart for a while now. "...Where is he right now?"

"Regina Ferox. Chrom and Sumia sent him on a mission with Lucy." She explains. "He's not a Priest anymore, y'know. He actually started playing violin recitals in Ylisstol."

"Really. That mook, playing a violin?" The picture of him dressed up, sitting on a stage playing an instrument is comical to me. A big, scar covered axe-wielding Priest turned performance artist. "He must scare half his audience out of the theatre."

"He's good enough with it that they stick around." She informs, her head lifting a bit as a ghostly smile comes back. "I remember his first time with the city orchestra. He sounded beautiful, like he could show the world who he really was. Not just the slang and the scars. But _him_ , y'know? The softy who just wants to make everyone happy. Even if he's not the best at showing it."

"You always did have a knack for seeing the best in people. Well when you weren't driving everyone up a wall." I quip, biting my tongue for going too far. But she doesn't seem to real back from the comment, just sighing in my arms. Resigned to her own depression.

"Is this how you feel whenever Subaki isn't around? Just, lost?" She asks, sitting back up in her own chair and glancing over to our comatose companions.

"That and nervous. A clock's in my head counting how long it'll be until I see him again." I explain, adjusting my tunic again to fix the folds. "He's my husband for a reason. We work well together."

"You two love each other a lot." Morgan observed, standing up out of her chair and pacing over to Cynthia's side. "They do too. Even when they can't move, they find a way to stick near each other."

"I'm sure Brady misses you too." I say, caught off guard by the feelings she has for the man. Even back in our time she was attracted to the slack-jawed thug, but I always wrote it off as a crush that she'd get over sooner or later. But now she's completely taken with him, and… I dunno, I can't help but feel happy about that. She deserves someone to come back to.

"I'm gonna fix this. When they wake up, we'll be ready for them." She stated with a firm nod to no one in particular. "I'll keep this place safe, no matter what."

" _We'll_ keep this place safe, eh?" I toss in as I get up and stand next to her. "Don't turn into Lucina and start thinking you can save the world on your own."

"What, so you can get into a sword fight in a flower field with me too?" She jokes, the bad memory flaring up in the back of my head. Both of us were acting like idiots that day, it was a miracle no one got sliced in half.

"Har dee har har. Yeah, sure." I roll my eyes and nudge her with my elbow. "Now, I'm gonna go to force myself asleep and visit these two when I'm all right in the head. You coming with?"

Morgan tuts once, before moving for the door. "I gotta talk with Jaques and find him a room. Plus I need to tell Virion and Cherche about this."

"Wait, they don't know?" I ask incredulously.

"They aren't here, both of them went south to look over the defenses. But they'll be back tomorrow, and then we both need to break the news." She opens the door, looks down the hallway and pauses, then spins around to face me with a cheeky smile. "You really think I would've told you before I told _them?_ Gerome's their son, ya know."

"Gimmie a break." I protest, her laugh echoing as she just disappears out of sight into the hallway. Instead of following her, I give both of the young Shepards one last look. They're so peaceful, no pain or worrying. Just lying there and letting the world work around them. If it wasn't for the circumstances, I'd almost be jealous. Lying down with your spouse without a care in the world.

"If either of you die on me, I'm never going to forgive you." I bark at the two, knowing that they won't stir. Still, I feel like it needs to be said. If they end up keeling over, I swear to Naga I'll find a way to march into whatever afterlife there is and drag them back out kicking and screaming. "...You've got a runt now. It's hard to picture you two as parents. But I dunno if I'm much better in that department either."

It's a silly idea when you think about it. Five years ago I never expected any of us to have kids at all. Now I've got a daughter, so does Owain. Hell, Inigo has _two_ kids _._ And now our old riders have a son waiting for them when they stop being lazy and wake the hell up. "We'll take care of him in the meantime. Just don't expect me to carry the slack for you two very long. This isn't like how things used to be, I can't fix everyone's problems."

Still no response. I may as well be talking to some sacks of potatoes, but it doesn't matter. This is the first time I've seen my friends in years and I'm gonna make _something_ of it, Gods damn it. "I missed you both. You would've loved Nohr and Hoshido, nothing but open skies and free flying for days. Gerome could've learned to ride pegasi there, like a real knight. Heck, Subaki could've taught you this time."

I shake my head. It's late, I'm tired, and tomorrow's going to be especially chaotic with this news coming to the forefront. "I'll see you both tomorrow." I finish, then move over towards the door. Still I can't shake the weird feeling. I thought the only thing that'd be going through my mind would be making whoever hurt them pay, but all I can think of is making sure no one else gets harmed. For once that weird blood lust of mine isn't rearing its ugly head.

When I walk out I'm greeted by another redhead. Not Morgan though, Subaki. His hair isn't done up, and he's still in his nightclothes. But he found his way down here sooner or later, maybe Percy went back to grab him. I don't really care, all I know is before I know it my arms are around him and I've got him forced into a rather harsh kiss.

We hold that position for a few minutes, Mister Perfect pinned against the wall while I stake my claim on his lips. Only reason why I stop is because my lungs run out of air, so I just pull back and smirk at him. Meanwhile he's just staring at me in confusion. "Well… what brought that on? Not that I'm complaining."

"I need an excuse?" I joke, bapping his chest with my forehead softly. "...Don't leave me, alright? No matter what, just stay close to me."

"Believe I made that promise when I gave you your wedding band. Unless you're worried about me keeping my word." Subaki answers, running his hand through my hair just like I had to Morgan. It's so warm and gentle… just like the inn during those first nights back. My own little happy place returns.

"Never had any doubt, ponytail."

* * *

 _ **A/N: Helloooooo everyone.**_

 _ **First off, a sincere apology for the almost month between updates. Fall semester of Uni's kicked off, which means I've got things to write for a grade now and not just for my own personal projects. Still, I haven't abandoned this tale. Quite the contrary, I'm looking forward to ramping this thing into overdrive.**_

 _ **Sidenote, I did upload that oneshot chapter under it's own name. So if you're interested in reading that, feel free. It gives insight into the relationship that the girls have in my own literary universe.**_

 _ **Anyhow, enough rambling. Time for more review responses!**_

 _ **Sigmatic: Thanks for the kind words. I want to make this a series where the central trio shows growth as people, and not just cardboard cutouts to praise the main star of the show. Subaki and Severa go well together because their personalities complement each well. Subaki's a lot more level-headed and generally adapt, Severa's more fiery and competitive. But in the end of the day, they support one another. Just how Caeldori supports them both as well. I like romance, and I reading a believable romance. So I do my best to also write one as well.**_

 _ **EpitaphEater: Cordelia seeing Severa again would be quite an event to be sure. With Robin gone I imagine her as being a lot more protective of what she has left, plus she tries to be a better parent to young Sev and Morgan than her alternate self was in the older timeline. It's something I've always wanted to see factored into a story, how the Awakening characters adapt in the future with the knowledge they've learned from their children's past. It's why I imagine this world's Tharja isn't as uh... evil, as Noire's version.**_

 _ **Guest (No username so I'll refer to you as this): Wow. Uh, wow. All I can say is thank you and I hope this chapter keeps up your expectations of this story. Like I said in my last author's note, my goal is to make a story centered around this *family*. Not around these characters. They change, support and help one another. They aren't the same people from Awakening or Fates, and I try to reflect that well.**_

 _ **That's all for now folks. Thank you for the 54 followers, 33 favorites and over 10,000 views on this story. We ain't done yet, not even close.**_

 _ **o/**_


	15. C-12: Same as the Old Boss

Subaki and I stand outside in the castle's courtyard. Today was our first official day as 'military advisers' for Roseanne's Army. Well, 'Army'. It's more of a glorified militia, decently armed but not exactly disciplined. Every member I saw was either lazy, drunk, belligerent, unmotivated or some combination of it all. The Duchy's still rebuilding, I know I shouldn't expect much. Especially after spending a good few years surrounded by a professional army like Nohr's.

Actually, the more I think about it the more I try to pull what I remember from my time there. Nohr and Hoshido were extremely different from Ylisse _or_ Roseanne. Apparently Chrom decided to revamp Ylisse's own militia while I was gone, actually creating different regiments and divisions of soldiers outside of the usual knights. Everyone was welcome to become anything, as long as they proved themselves.

Hoshido's armed forces were completely different, made up of the better off of the Kingdom. Lesser nobles or the affluent joined willingly, looking for honor or glory. The average spear-fighter was just a conscript, they had basically no training and were arrow fodder. But they had an extremely strong backbone of elites. The nobles became samurai, sky knights or ninjas, and they easily made up for what the peasantry lacked in combat skill.

Nohr's entire society was built around war. The Kingdom itself was so poor, the land was a nightmare for farming or mining. The only way to get a decent living and good meal for most people was to enlist in the army. And the army transformed everyone who walked into it. Nohrian soldiers weren't people, they became gears in a greater machine. Units marching with in perfect synchronization, orders being followed without a second thought, an almost complete lack of fear.

One Kingdom was built by people who had everything to prove, the other was built by people with nothing to lose.

Roseanne was a mix of both. Which means these guys have the potential to be amazing or my greatest **nightmare.**

"Perhaps I should take the reigns." Subaki offers quietly, naginata at his side as the sunrise curls over his right. Ever since the Blanche incident he's spent the past few days hovering over me like an overprotective parent. I knew this was how he'd react if I told him, but it really doesn't make the situation any less annoying.

"Morgan asked _me,_ pegasus brain." I answer in a hushed tone, not trying to interrupt an introduction being given in front of us. The tactician was strutting her stuff in front of the newbies, giving some big speech about how noble these people all were for not being complete cowards and actually protecting their homes. Well, she isn't phrasing it like that but… eh, it's the truth.

"She requested all three of us." He corrects, I can see his finger wagging. Caeldori was busy talking with Blanche to the side, trying to pick out which of the new recruits would be decent on a pegasus' back.

I just scoff. "With me in-charge, obviously. I'm the best fighter out of us all."

He looks down at me like he's trying to win an argument with a child. "Firstly, that's to be debated. _Highly_ debated. Second, have you even instructed recruits before? Lady Camilla didn't seem the type to really involve herself with the troopers beneath her."

Well, he's got me there. Training people isn't something that's already on my absurdly large resume. "Oh come on, how hard can it be?"

"Wrong answer. Follow my lead." He finishes, ignoring my indignant expression as his eyes remain ever forwards.

Before us is a gaggle of about twenty new enlistees. Virion officially put the call out for any and all able bodied people in the Duchy to join the militia for when the fighting finally started. More people showed up then we expected, which was nothing but music to Morgan and Blanche's ears. This was first platoon we were inspecting today, and there were Gods knows how many more after them we needed to sort out.

Judging from this first group we had our work cut out for us. They all looked ragged, hungry, bored, scared, or some mix of everything. Of course the people joined up were the ones looking for a quick gold piece, for good and bad reasons. Still it was the first time I'd ever seen rich and poor standing side by side since I even came back to this continent. They weren't soldiers, though. We'd have to change that quickly before the real ones came to kill us all.

After the rude awakening I had this morning, the plan for the day is still tumbling around in my head. Virion decided that we were waiting long enough, and now he was dragging all of our combined forces to the southern border to militarize it. Barricades, walls, guard towers, trenches, _minefields._ Every single inch of land was going to be under watch by someone. Having his kid turned into a flying pincushion completely sent him over the edge. Gods knows I'd be the same if it ever happened to me.

Most of the forces Roseanne had were already moving down with Virion and Cherche. All that was left in the capitol were Morgan's Ylissean troops, the fresh Militia recruits, and a skeleton crew of Ducal Guard to keep watch over the city. In an hour we were going to start our own march to meet with everyone else, and I could already feel my back breaking in half. If there's one thing that'd make me become a pegasus knight, it's that I would never have to walk anywhere ever again.

"With that settled, I leave you all in the capable hands of Captain Takeda and Captain Volker. These two will be organizing and instructing you all as we march towards Valais." Morgan was wrapping up her speech and trying to introduce us to the rabble. No time to bicker with my hot-airhead husband, time to put on my best 'I will murder you' face and get these greenhorns moving.

As the half-pint slipped away and out of sight, we came forward and looked over the platoon of men and women in front of us. Farmers, shopkeepers, merchants, chambermaids and vagabonds. I doubt a single one of them's even held a weapon once in their life. And now I've got a month to turn'em into something worth a damn.

"Greetings to you all." Subaki begins, jarring me from my thoughts as reality gives me one of it's usual smacks. Firm up your posture, shoulders square and feet parallel. Hands behind your back, head forward. Move your eyes, not your neck. "As the Commander stated beforehand, once we reach Valais you will each be sent off into your militia companies. Until then, and in the meantime, we've been instructed to be your guides."

"That doesn't mean babysitters." I chirp, focusing my glare on a younger farmhand picking his nose at the front of the line. Completely disgusting, he doesn't even seem to care that I'm sneering at him from here. "We get you from point A to point B. We show you the basics of campaigning on the way, and we start the real training there. Understood?"

A few nods and grumbles echo out from the group, but nothing of substance. I'm talking to a group of scarecrows, and they aren't even keeping any crops safe. My teeth are already grinding against one another in frustration, this is going to be a long day.

* * *

" **Keep walking, you sadsacks! You think you'll survive a war if you can't even survive a march!?"**

Few hours later and we were off. A thousand people total, half being Ylisseans in the front and the other half being Valmese in the rear. Five companies worth of fresh cannon fodder, moving down the main road while I harassed them from my horse. It's like herding cattle, slow and dumb. No sense of direction or formation.

When Caeldori was younger, I remember having to fight with her as a toddler to make her wear anything. Didn't matter what I tried to put on her, she'd wriggle out of it somehow and throw it to the other side of the room. When we finally got her to stick with an outfit, it looked like a rumpled mess. These new guys… remind me of that. Their uniforms are crumpled and misshapen, either too big or too small. Helmets are all askew, straps aren't done right. Some of them are even holding their spears upside down.

The longer I look at it, the more I'm growing physically ill. Nohr spoiled me, I was used to working with actual troops who had gone through actual training. Now I was dealing with a bunch of townsfolk playing dress up, and I had to somehow get them through this alive. Way, way, way over my head here.

I give my horse a spur and move to the front, riding up to Subaki's side as soon as I could. He craned his head over to watch me slow to match his pace, rolling up the map he'd been reading from. "I take it the rear is moving along quickly?"

"It's moving along quick enough." I inform, taking my hands from the reigns and stretching my arms out. "Give it a few minutes, someone'll trip and knock the whole formation sideways."

"Very little faith you have in these volunteers." He's smirking again, the kind of smirk he makes when he's about to tease me relentlessly. "If I recall correctly in your stories, you had to start from nothing as well."

"Yeah, I had years to train. They have weeks." I counter, letting my arms settle back down as I roll my neck.

"Then it's a good thing they have me here to instruct them." He adds smugly, laughing as I roll my eyes. "Then it's a good thing they have _us_ to instruct them. But mostly me."

"Your humility is awe inducing." My words are weighed with so much sarcasm, I'm pretty sure they hit the ground as I grab the reins of my horse again.

"I'm a paragon of perfection, remember?" He continues, glancing back over to me. I can see his brow raise in confusion. "So then, why ride up here? Is something else the matter."

"I need an excuse to talk with you now?" I ask.

"That's why you usually come to me regardless, yes." He answers. A pit forms in my stomach when I realize how right he is, but I hear Subaki continue pressing. Probably wearing my heart on my sleeve again. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding."

Sighing, I swallow my self-loathing so I can say what I came here to say. "I'm worried about Caeldori."

That only seemed to make him confused. "Odd thing to be worried about. She's seemed rather happy these past few weeks."

"No, no." I shake my head. "I mean… you remember when we arrived at that town before crossing into Roseanne?" His head nods up and down in acknowledgement. "Things haven't gotten much better since then."

"You two are talking again, I would call that an improvement." Subaki points out.

Again I shake my head. "Something still doesn't feel right. She still skirts around me whenever I speak with her. Sure, I get the usual 'yes Mother' and 'no Mother', but it's like we're just going through the paces of talking."

I can sense his voice drop quite a few octaves as he speaks again. "She's an eighteen year old girl, with a twenty-five year old mother. She might simply not know _how_ to discuss things with you."

"Right…" My mind wanders back to the day we decided to slip her away into the deeprealms. We weren't the first parents in Corrin's Army, that honor belonged to her retainers Jakob and Flora. Soon, Corrin herself had her own children, then a few of the other royals. _Including_ my own liege, Camilla. When our time come, the Deeprealms were already decided on being where we'd shelter the children until the war was over.

Though, honestly I regret the choice.

We did it for all the right reasons. An Army, especially an Army filled with people who were _technically_ deserters, wasn't a real place to raise a family. We were always on the move, getting caught in fights every other day. I still remember holding her in my arms when we were having the talk. Subaki said it was the best option for everyone. A year away from our daughter was a small price to pay if it meant keeping her alive.

I remember just staring into her eyes. It hurt so much. I was abandoning her, just like how my mother abandoned me. Except now I finally knew how she felt every time she left me behind. Your heart just broke into a million pieces, the only way you could even live with yourself was justifying it. It was for her own good, I knew that. But now I have to live with the consequences.

We didn't know time was so distorted in the deeprealms. It wasn't until a month after we left her there that we had a chance to visit, and she was already _two years old._ We missed her first steps, her first words, her first everything. The first time we saw her, she didn't even know who we were.

I have the right to call myself her mother. If anything I should've gone with her.

"You're making that face again." Subaki comments, once again snapping me back to reality. I give my horse a quick tug to the right as the road makes a bend, keeping myself in line with the rest of the convoy. "Thinking about the past?"

"I've been doing it a lot lately." I admit, keeping my eyes poised forward. Blanche is riding her way back here, going from carriage to carriage. If I'm lucky, she'll avoid me and I don't have another headache to deal with.

"Returning to your homeland must have brought back many memories." He says, I don't think he's noticed that Blanche is coming. I didn't tell him about what happened in the hospice, knowing him he'd probably throw Blanche out of a window. One of the things I discovered about my husband, he gets rather… protective.

"Most of the memories I've been having were about Nohr and Valla, not my childhood." I correct, huffing through my nose. "I just… I need to do this right. I need to be a good mother."

"...I shouldn't have to ask this but, why?" My head slowly turns as I stare at the man incredulously. _Why_ should I be a good mother? Really? Out of everything he could ask?

He lifts a finger in front of me, his own gaze still directed forwards. "Let me explain; do you want to be a good mother for our daughter's sake, or because you want to be better than your _own_ mother at something?"

That one stumps me. Much as I hate to admit it, that's another one of my fears. When we first came back to the past, I was completely obsessed with surpassing my mother in everything. I needed to be her superior, just to prove I wasn't some worthless weakling. I needed to be more than just Cordelia's daughter, I needed to be Severa Volker.

But that was before I met her again, and I tried to make my peace with her. That was before I left for Nohr, and had my own child. Now I'm in her shoes… no matter what I do, I'm never better or worse than her. I'm her daughter… I'm her equal.

Maybe it's time I let myself accept that.

"Both." I answer, with what I think is the truth. "Caeldori deserves the best parents. And I want to be better to her than my mother was for me. But I want to be better for _her sake._ Not my ego."

The smirk on his face widens, and I think he believes me. I just hope that I'm saying the truth. "Good, that's the answer I expected."

I can feel annoyance rising in my chest as he says that, my grip tightens as I lean over and scream at him. **"Then why did you ask me in the first place, birdbrain!?"**

"Because you needed to hear it yourself." He affirms, right as another horse trots to our front. I see my worries confirmed as Blanche clearly halts in our path, forcing both of us to stop ourselves.

"You. Follow me." She points towards me, ignoring Subaki entirely, before waving for me to follow as she darts off away from the convoy. Some dirt goes flying into my mouth as I try to spit out a response.

"Well, that's sudden." Subaki grumbles, eyes narrowing on the war cleric's back as she rides. "Wonder what's got her in a huff."

"Nothing good, if she's forcing herself to talk to me." I say, sharing his wareyness. Still, if she's asking _me_ of all people for help, that means there's something very wrong. "You can handle this for a little while without me, right?"

"Do you even have to ask that?" The grounded sky knight asks, laughing as he rides off ahead of me. I roll my eyes again, but I smile a bit too. Maybe sharing my problems with him isn't the worst of ideas.

Anyway, I've got a job to do.

* * *

We've been riding for an hour now, and I'm starting to get angry.

Way, way too far out from the rest of the troops. Off the beaten path and into the farmland of the country, new territory I've never seen before. The sun's starting to dip, I don't know when we're going to turn back.

Worst part is I'm starting to smell smoke. But nothing I can see either because of this damned brush we're riding in.

Finally, Blanche slides to a stop. Enough room that I can make a less violent pause. Both of us dismount, and I give my horse a few bites from my carrot before walking along with her.

"You were surprisingly quiet during the ride." Blanche chastises me. Again I strangle the urge to… well, strangle her. Not that it'd work, even outside of bed I'm fairly sure she's stronger than I am.

"Why are we here?" I cut to the point. No need to play her annoying games, it's bad enough that I came this far away from everyone else without questioning it.

She's stone faced. Uncomfortably so, usually she has that placid smile on her face and an air of demented serenity. Not now, now she's just twisted up and tightly wound. This entire situation smells like disaster. "A village was attacked, one of the messengers informed me. They also said the survivors were muttering things about Grimleal."

"So you brought me along? I told you, I'm not Grim-" She cuts me off, holding up a fist and remaining in place. I do the same, cautiously placing my hand on my rapier.

"Your father was Plegian, yes? So was his family?" I nod, acknowledging the fact tentatively. "Paired with your past, it wouldn't be wrong of me to assume you know a great deal of the Grimleal regardless of your allegiances?"

"Well…" Fair point, I know more about the cult than I would like. When I was younger, I ended up doing my own research in the past so we could find a way to deal with Grima beyond the falchon. Nothing of substance came from it, but it gave me a crash course on everything cultist.

She presses on with her explanation anyway, not waiting for a full answer. "I need you with me. If there's Grimleal in Roseanne, they need to be eradicated. But there's things about them I don't understand, but your ilk will."

I growl a bit, shoving a finger into her breastplate. "Listen, lady. I might be a Ylissean to the bone, but Plegians don't deserve to be kicked around like trash."

The Cleric scoffs. "Rich, coming from the woman who's spent most of her life murdering Plegians."

I pull my hand back, still glowering. "Not Plegians, Risen. And I did that because I had to, not because I liked it."

"Of course, I'm sure that man who's face you beat into mist can attest." Blanche's words are so double-faced it hurts. She levels another glare at me, one filled with mistrust and disgust. Like I'm some kind of mass murderer dropped on her doorstep.

"I was protecting one of your soldiers." I say, thinking back to the fight in the castle's hall.

"You scarred two children, and terrified the civilians." She counters, before continuing to walk in the direction we were heading before. "People thought you were some kind of demon."

I don't respond. I can't, if what she's saying is true… well, I can't blame them for being afraid of me.

As we finally clear the brush, we happen upon the ruins of what was something. Maybe a village. The way the rubble is scattered about, it'd fit the placement of a few houses and buildings. There's no farmland here, but I'm pretty sure I see a few charred furs hanging from a line off near the clearing's edge.

"Trapping village?" I ask.

Blanche grunts as we pass the first pile of rubble. "Many of our people our hunters and trappers. Not all food comes from crops, and we one needs to make clothes from items other than cotton."

"Explains why it's this far off the beaten path." I muse, stepping over a large stone brick. The entire scene is eerily familiar. No bodies left behind, all the valuables untouched. A few traces of blood and the damage of fighting is the only thing present. Broken arrows and blades. Just like the aftermath of a risen attack in my real world.

That's when I see it, poking out from under a pile of charred wood.

The edge was easy to grab, I go down on a knee and pry it out with both hands. Resting in my grip is an old, yellowed mask. Stitch-work criss-crossing all over it, like artificial scars. Dead eye slits, black as night. An open maw with white studs poking out to resemble teeth. The nose was huge, cutting down the middle of the thing all the way up to where the forehead would be.

I can feel my right hand heating up, and my birthmark starts glowing for the first time since Grima died. Purple light piercing through the leather, the brand of the defile clearly seen burning through. Fell essence was flowing through this thing, it was the best confirmation I could ask for.

Blanche wandered over and noticed too. First my hand, then the mask. I could hear her gasp in shock as she made it what it was, then hear her step back. So I rise up to my full height, chucking the death mask away like a throwing star deep into the woods.

"This can't be possible." I hear her stammer out, looking out to the direction I hurled the mask in what can only be described as complete fear. "The Risen are dead. They can't be back! It's impossible for them to be back!"

"Something's only impossible until it isn't." I comment, but that doesn't seem to help the situation. Seeing the risen mask again's sent the woman into a full-blown panic attack. Hyperventilating, eyes bulging, holding her head in her hands. Basically all the feelings I have inside me too, but I've got the self-control to contain them.

"Will you _relax?_ " I spit out, drawing out my sword and scanning the area round us. My hand's still glowing, which means there's something here that's still got Grima's gunk all over it. If it's more risen, having a clergy woman freaking out is the last thing I need to deal with in the middle of a fight.

And if right on queue, I hear the growls start.

It snaps Blanche out of her delusion, at least. Never seen someone whip out an axe faster in my life. Out of instinct she sets herself up at my back, gritting her teeth and turning her head about to scan the horizon. "We need to get back to the horses immediately." She stammers out.

"And what, leave these things to kill off another village?" I ask, twisting my hands harsher around the hilt of my weapon. I see two figures make their way out of the brush, dressed up in mercenary gear just like me. "Two of them coming my way. You?"

"Another two over here." She says over my shoulder, adjusting her footing. "It's been years since I've fought these things."

"You and me both." I mutter, quickly pulling up everything I can remember about fighting zombies. "Remember, they're fast but they're clumsy. Make them fall over themselves."

"What in the name of Naga are they even _doing_ here?" I feel her take a step away from me as my own two targets meander closer and closer.

"Questions to ask when we aren't about to be murdered. On the count of three, we rush them. Alright?" Again I hear her grunt, a shaky one but there.

She's the last person I would've ever imagined going back to back with, but beggars can't be choosers. Naga knows I'm not dying here away from my family. "Right…. **Three!** "

We both lunge forward and sprint at the shambling corpses. I hop over a pile of rubble, using it as a springboard to launch into the air. As I start coming down, I aim my blade right for the head of the beast. The steel hits it's mark, injecting itself into the fallen man's eye socket and ripping all the way through his skull. No blood, just dust and smoke.

Both of us topple down to the ground, and I use my momentum to tuck into a roll and get myself away from the risen that's still standing. As I get back up, the swordsman is already sprinting at me. So, I turn to my side. Level my shoulder mounted shield at him and brace as he slashes wildly towards me. One, two, three, four, five strikes in quick fashion. The last attack glances off the steel, and causes him to stumble. That's when I grab his sword hand, and shove my own sword right up his head from the bottom. He goes twitchy for a bit, before just evaporating away into smog in my grip.

As the ash clears and I finally stop coughing, I can see that the other Risen's trying to get itself back up. It's depth perception must be a bit screwed now that it only has one eye, which makes it easy for me to come up behind it and kick it back down. From there I just press my boot against the base of its neck and twist right, snapping it apart and sending it packing as well.

With that little scuffle out of the way, I rush back over towards the center to see how Blanche is doing. What I'm expecting is a cleric way out of her league, especially saying how she was having a breakdown just two minutes prior.

What I see is something else, that's honestly unnerving.

One of the risen is already on the ground, twitching like a bug that was zapped by lightning. Blanche's combat axe is lodged deep in it's head, to the point where it's gone completely through the risen and is dug into the ground. In fact… I think it's _pinning_ it in place. All the while it just keeps wrything there.

Blanche herself, has decided to engage her other opponent unarmed. Seeing this I start running over with my rapier at the ready, fighting a risen without a weapon is about as suicidal as you can get.

That's when she grabs the risen by then neck and the arm.

Then, through sheer brute strength, she rips the thing's arm off.

After that she lifts the risen off of the ground, then spikes it back down head first. Afterwards she just starts bludgeoning the thing with it's own limb. Hitting it again, and again and again. It's mortifying, the only other people I've seen in my life with this much strength are a pair of Nohrian nights named Effie and Benny, and and old friend I know called Kjelle. And even then, I'm not sure if they could pull this off.

While she's doing this, the axe'd risen finally stops moving and starts floating away as a wave of ash. My hand's still burning up from my mark's activation. Against my better judgement, I sheath my sword and remove my glove to get a better look.

It's purple. Like the markings on Daddy and Morgan's coat. Pulsating like veins with blood flowing through them. Growing up, I always hated this thing. Neither of us really knew what it meant at first, and anyone who saw it outside the shepherds would attack Morgan and I on sight. Everyone assumed we were risen, or grimleal, or some unholy mix of the two. Either way it just felt disgusting to see active again.

I slip the glove back on as I hear the clobbering stop, crouching down to grab Blanche's axe out from the dirt. As she makes her way back, I toss her lost weapon back over to her. She grabs it out of the air rather easily, slipping it back into it's holster and giving me a quick look. "Are you well? I have a mend staff in my kit."

I scoff because I have to, grinning slightly at one of her rare moments of charity towards me. "Is her holiness showing concern for a filthy Plegian? Be still my heart, I think I may faint."

She rolls her eyes and turns around, walking back towards the horses. "Worthless heretic." Blanche throws over my shoulder as some final words, glad that the whole foray was over.

Me? I'm standing there, having a good laugh before I start leaving the area myself.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Happy October, everyone. A bit of a darker chapter to introduce us into a darker month. Sorry for the lack of updates, school's been kicking my kiester up and down the street lately.**_

 _ **You'll probably notice the title change I made for this story. I decided to be a bit more creative than just labeling the stories 'book one, book two, book three'. I'm still intending to write Inigo and Owain's routes down the line, along with a fourth terminal book, but each of the routes before then are going to be pretty self contained. These kinds of titles will carry that message better, hopefully.**_

 _ **o/**_


	16. C-13: Confessional

Now that the fighting's over, it's _my_ turn to panic. As we move back towards the horses, a thousand scenarios keep playing through my imagination. The risen are back, somehow. Which means half the reason father died is now in the tubes. It also means that we've got a third party to fight, on top of the Valentians. On top of that it puts Gods knows how many people in danger with most of the military getting ready for a war.

It doesn't make any sense. Risen are Grimleal creations, no one outside of the cult can raise them. But they're here, which means the Grimleal have to be here. Did they flee to Valm after Grima got killed…? No, no. There's no way they could've made it off of Archenea. Validar handed over their entire fleet for the invasion, and any ship flying Plegian colors was asking for a deathwish after what happened. That isn't even factoring in how militant the people here are against the cult. Any whiff of fell essence would've sent the entire Valmese church into a feeding frenzy.

I'm missing something important about all of this, and that needs to change.

When we get back to our mounts, I hop into the saddle and take out a compass. I can hear Blanche unfurling a map behind me. "What direction is the nearest town?" I call out, scanning forest for any more uninvited guests.

"Lorraine is to the south, another few hours ride away at the least. And not in the direction of the march." She answers, grumbling something to herself.

I'm muttering curses under my breath. Spending more time away from the others is a bad idea. We're already way too late to come back in time for the first camp. May as well just keep riding on my own, have Blanche go back and tell them I'll join them in a few days. Subaki'll be furious, Caeldori will be upset that I didn't bring her along. But this isn't something I can put off.

My ears perk up as I hear a bird squawk behind me, and I turn to see Blanche cradling a grey pigeon in her hands. There's a quill balanced on the back of her horse, and a bit of parchment is easily seen tied to the leg of the animal in her grasp. A courier pigeon, great. That means she has the same idea I do.

"You sure leaving the Army without its leader is the best move?" I ask, watching the pigeon kick off and flutter away in the direction we came from. Within a minute it's out of sight, above the treeline.

"They have Virion. He's our leader, I merely help where I can." She replies, sighing softly as she brings her mount around to face the south. Blanche trots up next to me, pointing in the direction that we need to go. "Besides, he has my cousin to keep him in line. Cherche knows enough about how to lead in my place. If anything, she has more experience than I do."

That sounds like a load of pegasus dung, and an all around horrible idea. "That doesn't _mean_ anything. I could just ride down there, ask around for some information, then come back on my own. One person is going to be faster than two here, and we're already on borrowed time."

"They will not be willing to speak with _you_ , Volker. One look at an outsider and you will be shunned like a common criminal." She answers sharply, not even giving the idea some thought. She's totally hellbent on going with me. "Lorraine has a chapel in the town square. Anything that happens, the curate will know."

Really. She's expecting a caretaker to know what the hell is going on? "What, this guy omnipotent? Or does he double as a spy?" I ask jokingly, quickly gaining the ire of Blanche once more. Every time she makes that sour, disgusted face, I can feel my soul smile just a bit more.

"Why would I expect a heretic to understand…?" She asks, before riding off towards the brush in a huff. I'm sniggering happily as I follow. I don't know why she's coming, I don't know why she didn't try to send me back to the convoy. I do know there's a mystery going on, and that every person in the country's at bigger risk now than they were before.

Why do things always seem like they're constantly getting worse?

* * *

Lorraine's bigger than I expected. Instead of a crowd of huts surrounding a wooden shack, we wander into a full blown town. Cobbled streets, market stalls, a rather large stone building at the epicenter of a circular ring of other stone buildings. The roads are a bit tight, about only a carriage wide, but it doesn't seem like too many people live here. By the time we reach the town center it's already twilight, the dim lamp fires showing us the way.

Instead of just heading to the chapel and getting the information, Blanche insists we wait until tomorrow so we can avoid drawing any attention to ourselves. So the two of us just stumble into a tavern and rent a room, before I end up collapsing into the nearest stall. Her Holiness makes a point of sitting on the opposite side of the bench, clearly keeping me at arm's length as I just rest my head on the table-top.

It's a small place. Four tables and a few booths, a square bar off in the corner with a modest stock of drinks. The staircase in the corner clearly leads upwards to the rooms, and there's a door in the back corner that probably goes to the kitchen. A pair of orange cats are randomly prowling, slipping between our legs at random. I guess they're trying to find out if we're friendly or not.

"Give me a break, we've been riding for ages." I protest, not even bothering to lift my head up. My arse is killing me, my back is sore, I'm pretty sure there's at least five bugs in my hair. Plus the trek through the woods painting my uniform with a thousand different grass strains. I _just_ washed this thing, too. Now I look like a green and black quilt.

"Would it be so hard for you to be even remotely professional?" I hear her crone from across my position. The sound drumming against the wood is probably her fingers, or a stupidly large bug. Either way I don't think it's something I care to lift my eyes up and see.

"I dunno, Blanche-y. Would it kill you to lay off?" I grumble back. So tired I can't even muster a proper insult.

"I'm the highest ranking member of an Army, yes it likely would result in my demise _and_ in the demise of others to 'lay off'." She replies in the same annoyed monotone. Everyone else she speaks with happily, just like her cousin. Me? It's like I'm a bug on her windshield. Ever since we've met she never gave me a chance. I don't know what I did wrong.

I just groan again, lifting myself up only to slouch down against the backrest. "You remind of Lucina. Except somehow even more annoying. I didn't even think that was possible."

Now I can see her roll her eyes. Honestly this is the first time I've really focused on her face. She's more rounded than Cherche, her eyes and chin are less pronounced. Hair is done into an extremely tight bun, irises a deep red. Younger than the Duchess too, barely more than my age. Except wrinkled as well. Another person who had to grow up faster than they wanted I guess.

"For someone who claims to be an experienced soldier, you have very clear problems with authority." She rattles off. It's becoming white noise at this point, everything this woman says is a complaint.

"Yeah, yeah. My shrink says the same thing. Come to Ylisstol, I'll give you his address." I laugh up at the ceiling, the idea of Blanche rambling her problems off to Laurent as he took notes probably being the funniest image I'll have today.

"Why am I not surprised you have been in therapy…?" We both clam up as the tavern keeper makes his way over with two mugs and a bottle. Blanche waves him off as he goes to fill her tankard, meanwhile I just point to mine and keep waving for him to give me more.

"More… more.. M- you know what, give me the bottle." I snatch the thing out of his grasp, waving him off while he stares at me off guard. As he takes his leave I down three gulps of the swill, filling out the rest of my mug and leaving the half-empty bottle on the table. Finally, my body actually starts to unwind a bit. Thank you, alcohol…

Another annoyed groan comes from the Priestess, and now I'm getting tired of her little exclamations. It's been a long enough day and I don't need a walking cloister making it even longer. "Right, why are you even sitting in this booth? The entire bar's empty. You could just head up to the room and leave me alone."

"Because I refuse to let a Plegian roam freely in the countryside." She quips back, spiking my anger even more. Blanche's lips curl into a pleased smirk as I grimace at her. "You should be thanking me, dear. Without my escort I doubt the people in this tavern would even be willing to serve you."

"I. Am. Not. Plegian." I hiss out. I'm Ylissean, I've been Ylissean my entire life. Sure, I'm a bit more pale than the rest of the Shepherds, paler than Morgan. But that doesn't change where I was born.

This statement doesn't seem to phase her Holiness in the slightest. "A half-breed is still at least half a problem. And I doubt most care would care regardless of your being a pure breed or a half-breed."

Why am I even bothering at this point, it's like yelling at a stone wall. I grab the bottle and go for another swig, but pause right before I bring it to my lips. "Talk about me like a dog one more time I break this bottle across your head."

"And then I break your arms, and drag you back to the convoy in pieces." She answers, threat for threat. She has the strength, but I can take her in a fight. It's clear she doesn't have as much combat skill as I do, how she relies so much on brute force. But, she doesn't stop talking. "Honestly, how in the world are _you_ the daughter of two of the greatest heroes of the Halidom? You're loud, vain, bombastic, irritating and simply _vile._ "

"You wanted sweet, happy and a head full of sunshine, you picked the wrong sister." I take another long swig from the bottle, before putting it back down once more. "There's a question, why did you bring _me_ on this little adventure? Morgan basically an expert on all things Grima. Plus you clearly enjoy her presence more."

"Because she has more critical duties than you." She informs me, crossing her arms over her armored chest. "And because, loath as I do to offer you anything resembling a compliment, you're a better combatant in a straight fight. I suppose out of all of your flaws, you need _one_ merit."

"Shove **off!** " I spit back, losing my temper entirely. Both my hands slam onto the tabletop, rocking the bottle, the tankards and making Miss Priss jump up a bit. I can see the owner of the place crane his head over as well, but at this point I'm too mad to care. "I am sick and **tired** of getting treated like some sort of second class citizen by you! Yeah, my Dad's from Plegia! His ancestors were Plegian, and I ended up getting my skin tone from him. News flash, sister. **That doesn't make me a bad guy!** I was born in Ylisstol! I grew up in Ylisse. I've worked for the Exalt since I was a teenager, and **I'm part of the Divine church!** So **lay the hell off, before I get violent! Got it!?"**

Footsteps are starting to rumble above my head from one of the rooms. Both the owner and the barkeeper are looking at me like I've escaped from a sanitarium. The cats're gone, guess I showed them just how friendly I really am. Meanwhile Blanche is staring at me, unimpressed and unamused. "Sit down. I'd rather not be forced to find another place to spend the night."

My sense overtakes my rage, and I comply, lowering myself back into my seat. Our eyes remain aimed at each other, my brown and her red beaming back and forth. Silence rules the room for a few minutes, Blanche taking the opportunity to fill out her own mug with the rest of the bottle.

When she rests it back down, she finally speaks again. "Morgan told me you were a lapsed member."

I snort. Wonder what brought that topic up. "I don't like sermons. There's better things to do then sit around in Ylisstol's basilica."

"Still makes you a heretic my dear. But I don't think you're Grimleal anymore, speaking with your spouse showed that much."

That gives me a bit of pause. "You questioned Subaki?"

She shakes her head, sipping her drink nonchalantly. "I had a casual conversation with him. Rather charming man, actually." She muses happily, smiling to herself. "Wonder if I could find someone like that."

"Get an attitude adjustment, it'll work wonders." I jab.

"The pot calls out the kettle, I see."

Good counter, I'll give her that. "...Touche."

That seems to lighten her mood ever so slightly. "I had different expectations for you, Captain. The Duke and the Duchess speak very highly of you. Your pedigree also stands out for itself."

"Don't take your disappointment out on me."

She shrugs. "I try not to. But it's hard to adjust with the reality of who sits before me."

"Yeah, well. I've got a thing about disappointing people." I mutter darkly. Past, present and future, seems everything I do gets overshadowed by my perfect family. Biggest plus of Nohr, no one knew who I was or where I came from. No reputations to uphold, no expectations to meet. Sweet, sweet freedom.

"I can tell, you're a rather damaged individual." Again my eyes narrow, but she shakes her head once more. "I didn't mean that as a quip, dear. Anyone can tell you carry more baggage than most."

That's a laugh, coming from her. "Now the kettle's calling out the pot. My neck still has marks, you know."

"Ah… right…" She looks away from me, eyes flickering about. Is that shame I see? "I do apologize for that. It was completely out of line."

"Yeah, you were." I answer.

"...Things were extreme when Grima rose again." She explains, sighing deeply. Her demeanor shifted from haughty and superior to depressed and morose all at once. Her shoulders slumped, her face sagged, even her eyes seemed to dim. "I'd just spent five years fighting people. Now I had to defend what was left from those I had already felled."

I grumble in understanding. If Valm was even a fraction of how bad things were in my future… I can't wish that amount of suffering on anybody. Fields of fire, pits filled with the dead. Families and settlements wiped out in the blink of an eye. Everything you ever had being lost, and there being nothing you could do about it. And if you tried, you just died. Then you came back as one of _them_ , and you kept spreading the misery you failed to contain.

"I was there when Virion fled Roseanne." She reminisces. "The Valmese Army swept over us in a day, with Walhart riding at the front. Our forces were in total disarray without him, most of the militia surrendered at once. Meanwhile I was in the cathedral, trying to keep who I could safe while we were battered by trebuchets. When word came to us that he ran..."

"You felt forgotten?" I try to fill in.

"I felt betrayed." Blanche corrects. "I still do. Before that day I'd never picked up an axe in my life. I'd never killed a man in my life either. I'm a cleric, I'm supposed to heal the sick and care for the uncared."

"Life has a tendency to flip our expectations."

"How pognient of you to say." She notes.

"Yeah, well, I'm clever." I boast. One look at my tankard gives away that it's already half-empty, have I really been drinking that much?

She ponders that for a second. "Hrm. I was given that reality check at Stieger. Having a lance nearly slipped into your ribs does that."

"I'd guess fighting with the Resistance would've been pretty hard for a nancy like yourself." I know it's petty at this point, but after the hell she's put me through today I'm taking as many chips as I can.

"I wasn't part of Empress Say'ri's resistance, dear." She amends, averting her eyes once more as I stared over at her. There were three parties at Stieger, and if she wasn't with the Resistance or the League, well. Doesn't take a genius to find out what group she was with.

She finishes off her mug, setting it down as she tries to stabilize herself from the intoxication. "As I told you. Virion and Cherche tend to forgive people who don't deserve it."

If she's looking for sympathy, she's already burned that bridge and pissed in the ashes. "You've got some nerve judging me after the things you've done then, lady."

Again, a shrug. She pushes herself up to her feet and leaves the table without a word. The tavern keeper wanders over, hand outstretched and still silent. Begrudgingly, I empty out my purse and pay him for the bottle. Can't believe this, she lambasts me for every mistake I make and she's the one who's actually committed treason.

And people say I'm insufferable.

* * *

By the time dawn rolls around, we're both standing in the center of an empty chapel. The local curate sneered a bit when he saw me coming, but Blanche's hand-wave made him stand down. More and more I'm starting to realize how differently the people in Valm look at me now. Most of them avert their eyes, stick to the other side of the street. Some of them just stare at me like I'm some kind of ghoul. A few look ready to attack me on a whim.

On the walk here I kept my hand clutched around my sword, expecting to get jumped the entire way. Blanche tried to calm me down, but honestly she was the last person I believed when she told me that no one was going to try something.

The place is a simple enough set up, four rows of pews facing an altar at the front. An intricate portrait of Naga clearly posed upwards, surveying everything and everyone who would sit in the main hall. The windows were given a green tint, a recreation of the Mila tree rest in each one. Nothing grand, but more then one would expect for a town out in the sticks.

The curate locked the door behind us and made his way into a back room, leaving us alone for a few moments. By some grace of luck, Blanche decides to inspect the altar piece instead of speaking with me. So I just sit down in a pew and let myself stew in my thoughts.

It's at this point in the story, the hero's supposed to bow their head and pray for good luck. Ask for Naga's blessing, request good fortune, try and find 'spiritual guidance' or some crap. I just want to get out of here, churches give me nothing but bad memories. Priests in the future didn't show me any kindness either when they saw my birthmark. And it only got worse as Grima got worse. Besides, Naga has bigger problems to deal with.

"What are you doing?" I hear an older male voice grumble. The curate's back, his dark skin, squinted eyes and grey bushy beard brandished in front of me in all their glory. He's got a healing stave with him, but he clearly uses it mostly as a cane.

I look around him to see why he's addressing me instead of his fellow clergywoman, but now I can see Blanche is the one indulging in prayer time. Great, now I have to entertain the stooly.

"Sitting and waiting. What're you doing, trying out for the world's oldest perv contest? Eyes're up here." Don't know what he's staring at, honestly, but I'd rather not take any chances with the old coot getting a free peep show.

"I'm too old to be ogling women a quarter of my age." He rumbles back, giving my leg a tap with his cane. "Move down a bit, I'd like to sit in my chapel. Gods know when you get my age, you can't get enough rest."

"Isn't this supposed to be Naga's chapel?" I question, but comply. I move down a bit so he can have some room to sit. He smells oddly… fruity. Actually, the entire place kind of has a bit of an apple scent floating around.

I swear, his entire body creeks like a broken door when he sits down. I'm afraid he's gonna shatter into a pile of bones. "When Naga cleans this place every day and keeps it running, it'll be her's. Right now it's just in her service."

I'm suppressing a smile. Rather poorly, but trying. "Well, it's not falling apart. So you're not _terrible_ at your job."

"Sixty years of practice, youngin'. Gives you plenty of time to make mistakes and learn from'em." He explains, yawning a bit before he extends a hand over. "Jules. You get to call me Father Jules."

"Really?" I ask, reluctantly taking his hand and shaking it. Titles, titles, titles. Why is everyone on this continent so obsessed with _titles?_ "Fine, 'Father' Jules. Why're you talking to me?"

"Not everyday a Plegian walks into my chapel." Jules crones, retracting his hand and wrapping it back around his staff.

"You sure I'm Plegian? Maybe I'm just a sickly little girl." I continue mockingly, shifting my gaze back towards the hanging portrait of Naga. Or… is that Naga? Her hair seems off, and her ears are too pointed. There's a basket of fruit in her hands too. Plus she has a different set of clothes on than usual.

"Your aura, girl. You've got a Plegian's aura." He explains, waving his hand up and down along the height of my body. "Sarcastic, angry, bitter. Just like every other Plegian I've ever met."

"Nice to see I live up to the stereotype." I'm focusing even more on the portait. Who is this? She's got green wings floating out along her side, along with a different headdress than I remember. Did she change shape when she appeared to us in our timeline? Or…

"That ain't the Divine Mother, girl." Jules pipes up, leaning deeper into the pew. "That's Mila. One of the old Goddesses of the continent."

"Never heard of her." I admit.

"Course you haven't, you Archeneans never worshiped'er or'er brother." He points out her features, specifically the basket in her hands. "We call'er the Earth Mother. Legend says she used to walk the continent, bless crops and help the sick." Jules grumbles once more, resting his hands and his staff in his lap. "What's your name then, girl?"

"Severa. I'm with the Ylisseans." I inform him, tapping the brand of the Exalt I've gotten stitched onto my right sleeve. Easy way for people to tell what side I'm on.

"Hm. A Plegian, workin' for the Ylisseans, here on Valm, wearin' clothes I ain't seen from anywhere." He lists off, nodding up and down as he strokes that mangey bush of facial hair.

"I'm from Ylisse, don't worry. I've just got some… mixed ancestry." Am I gonna need to sing this song and dance with everyone here? Because it's gonna get really old, really fast if I need to tell everyone where I'm from so they stop getting shifty.

"Right. One, even if you were full Plegian, I ain't afraid of no one but my wife. And you ain't her by a long shot." He states. "Two, I don't care if you're all the way from Elibe." Was his reply, like he was stating the obvious to a really dumb toddler. "It's a church, this place is supposed to be for everyone who needs it."

I don't buy the kindness, especially with how he looked at me when I was walking over here. Everyone here's always seemed to have two faces when it comes to me. "You're literally the only person who's said they don't care, old man."

"Then maybe I need to start adjustin' my sermons, because that don't sound like something Naga'd be too pleased about." He affirms, giving my leg a tap with the orb that rests on his staff. "And it's 'Father Jules', remember? The old man was my papa, and he ain't with us anymore."

I chuckle softly at the correction, lifting my head at the patter of footsteps on the stonework as Blanche finally makes her way over. She bows her head down once, and Jules stands up to do the same. "Father Jules, it's been too long."

"Since you packed up, left my keister here, and became a big-wig cleric in Roseanne? Yeah, it has." He speaks pretty gruffly, but you start to sense the hints of affection hidden in his words. Some people really only know how to talk one way I guess.

"I wish this was a casual visit, but we actually came here over pressing matters."

"It's the Risen, ain't it?" He asks almost immediately. Both of us stare at him, stunned, before he rolls his eyes and smacks the ground with his staff. "I ain't senile yet, folks here've said they've been seein' those demons prowlin' again. Plus I had a little visit from the Voice about'em last week."

"Wait… _Lady Tiki_ was here?" I ask, grabbing hold of the pew at my front and pulling myself up. I didn't even know if Tiki was still on Valm, let alone in Roseanne. She knows about the Risen too? Why didn't she come to warn Virion then? Why isn't word being spread around about this!?

"Asked some questions, then left me this. Said to give it to whoever came 'round askin' about'em next." From under his robes, he pulls out another Risen mask. This one singed around the edges, but the center piece was still clean enough for one to tell what it was. My hand started to react on it's own, the purple sheen coming to light. But I think I cover my hand fast enough that the curate doesn't seem to notice.

"How did she know we would…?" Blanche asks in disbelief, taking hold of the mask and cradling it in her arms. Said arms were shaking again, even when the mask was dead the Risen it belonged to seemed to haunt her.

"She's a livin' Goddess, girl. Didn't I teach you not to try and make sense of Manaketes?" Jules rattles off impatiently, giving Blanche a quick whap in the leg. She dances on one foot for a bit, seething at the old man. Sweet, sweet karma.

"Where'd Tiki go?" I ask quickly, wanting to cut to the chase. If she's already ran into the Risen, then that means she might be able to help us deal with the problem.

"Chon'sin. Don't know why, didn't ask. All I know is she left in a hurry after she gave me that." Jules waves to the mask in Blanche's grasp, and I'm left fuming off to the side. Of course you didn't ask, you useless old fart! That might've made this easier for us!

"And the reports you've heard personally, they're from your parishioners?" Blanche follows up, tucking the mask into her sack like it was one of Miriel and Laurent's lit fire bombs.

"The ones who live close to the border. E'rywhere else, I ain't heard heads or tails about any risen."

Blanche's brow furrows in thought. "The only border here is to the southwest…"

"Isn't that where the the Army's headed already?" I ask quickly, looking between the both of them. Jules just shrugs, why in the hell would he know? Why in the world am I even still talking with him?

"It is. Which means we already know where to head next." Blanche confirms. She moves to go for the door, but not before the old man wraps his hand around her arm.

"Not yet. I need to have a word with you." He glances my way, nodding slowly. "In private, Miss Severa."

"...Yeah. Alright." I slink away, giving the two one last look of confusion as they huddle back towards the rear room of the chapel. Not like I have time to protest, we need to get the horses ready and ride back to the others.

Right before I close the door behind me, I can hear the two muttering something about fell essence and tomes. Religious nonsense I won't even bother to try and understand right now, there's other priorities.

I stomp out of the building and rush down the street, ignoring the odd looks everyone's giving the redheaded girl as she storms out into the open at the break of dawn. Worst case scenario, everyone's about to run into the middle of a risen hive. Which means Subaki and Caeldori might end up finding out first hand what made me who I am today. That can't happen, I can't let any of it happen again.

I won't let it happen again. My future is _not_ going to be a repeat of my past.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Got this out faster than usual. Sweet.**_

 _ **o/**_


	17. P-2: To Be Worldly

It'd been far too long since Virion had found himself in a proper skirmish. The role of statesman forced him to take a back seat when combat came to be, but this War on his home meant he had to fight once more. If only to finally make peace with the flight he took the first time his Roseanne was threatened.

But he didn't expect his grand return into the fray to be so much like the last time he had taken up arms. Duke Virion came to defend his people against other people, not Risen.

Blanche's carrier pigeon had arrived a few hours before they saw the smoke billowing over the horizon. He cursed the idea of not having his Brigadier on call, but he knew Blanche would make her way in due time. Severa, on the other hand… if something happened to that girl while she was under his care, he doubted he could ever face her mother again.

Those thoughts were banished quickly. After the smoke signal came the fleeing townsfolk. Farmers clutching their tools as makeshift weapons, townies clutching whatever they could carry in their arms and over their backs. Parents escorting still terrified children behind the Army's lines. The dark night was illuminated by a deep orange hue as fire blazed. 'Risen, risen, risen!' They cried the word like a demonic chant, over and over. Warning any and all they could.

Virion ran off towards the town out of instinct. He didn't pay attention to his men, rushing between them as they tried to help the wounded. He paid no mind to his wife as she tried to make him wait for her. The only thing on his mind was the damage laid out before him, and containing it as quickly as he could.

He didn't stop running, even when the first Risen stumbled out from behind a blazing pile of refuse. The Duke merely nocked a bow and fired it off, the arrowhead ripping through the undead's skull and pinning it against a cobblestone wall. It still lived, but weakly flailed in place, smoke pouring from the wound in the place of blood.

Virion kept going regardless. Vaulting over a derelict cart, causing a basket of apples to fall off in the process. Feathering a second Risen as it howled wildly on the roof of another home, a missle to the throat ended his vocal career swiftly. The living corpse tumbled down unceremoniously, dissipating into a cloud of smog.

As he finally came to a halt, Virion realized that he'd rushed headlong into the town without even a thought as to what he would do upon his arrival. Instinct carried him to this point, and now he was finally able to sort through his thoughts. Escorting out any forlorn survivors came first to mind, but then he thought it would be rather pointless without securing the area. But then came the realization that he had no idea how many risen were even assaulting the hamlet.

Such introspection was cut off quickly, however. An arrow, not his own much to his dismay, tore past him and along his arm. A second glanced against the backplate of his armor as he dove for cover back behind the cart he had initially clambered over, ears tuning into the sounds of more growling risen approaching him. One look at his arm showed that it was a flesh wound, a bit of red seeping from the shallow cut. Not debilitating, but a strike against his own ego.

"Perhaps I have gotten too careless…" He grumbled, resting his head against the cart and preparing his bow. Two arrows against the string for the three pairs of feet he heard stumbling ever closer. Time fighting risen taught him that they enjoyed moving in clumps. One often shambling in front of the other. In the end they were still all creatures of decayed flesh and bone, and were just as malleable as their original living forms.

They were twenty paces away by his estimate, and waiting any longer put him at the risk of a counter attack. Quickly the Duke tore around the corner, standing on a knee as he affixed his aim upon his targets. As he let loose his arrows, they zoomed where he had fired. One embedding itself in the heart of a myrmidon, the other punching through the same target and into the cranium of an archer that was wandering up behind. Both targets crumpled onto the ground, but the third still came forth. A knight, wrapped in his rusted armor. His face covered by an old battlemask.

Virion sharply nocked a new arrow, firing and striking the beast in the eye. Still, it moved forth, barely reacting to the loss of sight. Then he fired once more, taking it's remaining eye. It stopped in place now, but not from pain. Merely turning it's head back and forth, unable to tell where it was. The world was nothing but darkness for the creature, robbed of it's sight entirely.

Garnering this, Virion slung his bow over his shoulder once more and drew the long estoc from his side. Slowly the nobleman came forward, approaching his ignorant prey directly. The knight turned about slowly, trying to get it's bearings like a dog searching for it's lost master. It did a full circle, turning once more to face Virion. Just in time for him to slip his blade right into the mouth of the mask.

From there, the beast finally evaporated into a nothing but a derelict pile of weaponry and armor. The only remainder from the beast was the risen's mask, loosely hanging off of the blade of Virion's sword.

Flinging the thing off into the distance, he sheathed his sidearm and returned to his preferred weapon. Lifting his hand to do a quick count, he discerned that there were four more arrows left in his quill. Had he known he would be sallying off into combat sooner, the sniper would have brought more than his lightest kit. Risen still cried deeper into the town, his work was not done yet. But even now he saw that rushing in further would be beyond foolhardy. Waiting for the bodyguard cadre to arrive would be wiser. More fighters, less risk for all involved.

That was until he heard the pained cries of a man. A living man, hopeless and afraid. Any thoughts of waiting were banished from his mind as he restarted his sprint.

As he ran, the sound of came from behind him. Whether or not it was a risen cavalier or one of his own, he didn't intend to wait and find out. Instead he kept pressing, following the blood curdling screams of the lost villager. He kept going, and going, until he found the source. A burning storefront, the roof completely ablaze and smoke pouring from the windows.

Of course he had gone inside regardless, kicking the door down and marching in with a drawn bowstring. A bit of searching and he found the fallen man, pinned to the floorboards by a charred beam behind the shop's counter. One arm was already charred and bleeding, the other had it's hand in the same state. Clearly he had been trying to free himself and failed. Off to the side was a woodcutter's axe, the blade covered in purple tinted dust.

Again, Virion drew his blade. Lopping off the sides of the beam and kicking it away from the man, before grabbing him by his unwounded arm and slinging it over his own shoulders. "Let us get you out of here, yes?"

The man nodded weakly, sucking in air to fill his now free lungs. "Th-thank you… Lord Virion." He managed out, limply keeping himself up as his liege guided him back out the door. Even such a simple task seemed like a struggle for the wounded man.

"But of course, my friend." Virion replied, grinning from ear to ear as the two crept through the blazing doorframe. "One need not thank their gallant savior for doing what is only natural, no?"

"Uh… right." The man agreed, deciding not to question the leader of the nation at such a time. As the cool night are rushed against his burnt skin, he cried in agony once more. Virion brought them both to a knee as the sound of collapsing wood shook from the store behind them, taking a flask from his hip and bringing it to the villager's mouth.

He readily drank the concoction happily, vitality and feeling returning to his desolate limbs. The pain was numbed, but the strength returned in full. Enough for him to fall free from the Duke's cradle and kneel upon his own strength. "Bon. You are a brave man, which I shall applaud. Almost as brave as myself, dare I say! But one man remaining alone is a bit foolish, no?"

"At the risk of sounding ungrateful, milord-" The villager started, forcing himself up and standing back fully. He clenched both hands again and again, making sure that he had full control of his body once more. "-I do believe we are both alone."

"Bah, I am not alone. I have… you! Yes!" The Duke protested, laughing happily as the cries of even more of the undead filled the air. Both men tensed, Virion readying his primary weapon in the direction of the cries.

Another group of six lifeless husks stumbled forth through a curtain of flame at the other side of the street, each of them clad in the light armor of a mercenary. Only four possessed weapons, but all seemed ready to assault their new prizes. Without another word, Virion took the estoc from his hip and offered it to the man at his side. "I observed the axe. You know how to fight?"

"The Imperials forced me to." The man clarified, taking the blade and rolling his shoulders. He took a proper stance, squaring himself and gripping the hilt of the thrusting saber with both hands. Virion internally sighed with relief, happy to not fight these things alone.

"Then let us begin!" Virion cried out, felling the first creature quickly with an arrow. His new companion advanced swiftly, reaching one of the risen just as the Duke feathered another target. Even wounded, the man managed five slashes in quick succession. Astra form, practiced as well. The flurry of strikes overwhelmed the slow shambler, tearing the first beast apart. He kept the momentum up, rushing into a third and skewering it's heart before it could counter his advance.

The final two happened upon him, though, taking advantage of his off-foot stance. He was brought to the ground by the first, pinned in place as it savagely bit at him. With all he strength he kept it at bay, right as an arrow head few into the top of it's scalp. The final risen also fell limply over, sharing the fate of it's brother.

The villager flung the evaporating carcass to the side, again going back to his feet and dusting his tunic off. "You seem rather composed, considering these demons are amongst us once more." Virion questioned, making his way over and inspecting the man for fresh injuries. His dresswear was a bit more elaborate than one would expect, resembling that of a mage lacking the hat, cape and long pants.

"That would likely be due to the shock and adrenaline." The man admitted, the panic from before still edged in his voice.

Virion chuckled at the thought, taking a step back once he was sure that the man was unharmed any further. "I will not complain in the meantime, then. Do you have a name, my friend? It feels rather awkward, saving you twice without knowing such a thing."

"Emmanuel." He answered, offering the blade back to Virion. The Duke took it freely, slipping it back into its sheath. "Sheriff of Geneve. Or what's left of her." He looked about at his town in dismay, running a hand through his half singed orange hair. "Stuck behind to make sure no one else needed saving. Ended up getting saved."

"Ah, the Gods have quite a sense of irony, no?" Virion joked, must to the man's clear detriment. It was then that another choir of cries filled the air, and more footsteps approached from behind them. "One that unfortunately never seems to run dry." He tacked on, his jovial nature finally wearing down.

Another trio approached, this time a horseless cavalier and a soldier paired with a proper mage. All of them were fully armed, the mage himself preparing a fist full of lightning as it locked upon it's targets. Virion instinctively went for his quill, only to grasp at air. Cursing to himself, he checked behind him. Nothing but fire was there.

"Do you know a path out of here?" He asked Emmanuel immediately. The Sheriff nodded, jutting a thumb over his shoulder towards side-road. But even in that direction, more beasts appeared to vocalize themselves. How many of the undead were here, exactly?

Just as it felt like they would be forced to flee, the sound of the horse from before broke though the night again. This time, paired with a wyvern's cry and the beating hoofs of its owner. Out of the blackness, a red haired knight smashed through the three risen. The mage was crushed beneath the horses legs. A flash of a naginata's blade shined, lopping off the heads of both melee combatants.

Subaki pulled up at the front of Virion and Emmanuel's sight. A sigh of relief left the Duke, and seconds later Minerva landed behind them with her rider clearly aboard. Both of the mounted troops disembarked from their respective steeds encompassing both within seconds.

Virion, naturally, turned to face his wife with a smile gladly present. "Cherche, my wonderful knight in shining armor! Come again to rescue me once more from the depths of-"

His monologue was cut off as his knight smashed her open palm across his face, nothing but anger and rage present from the Wyvern Lord as she gripped the sniper's collar and pulled it down to match her own height.

"If you ever, _**ever,**_ do something like that again. I won't even feed you to Minerva, I'll use you as her scratching post first. _Then_ you go into her belly. Understand?" She promised in a steeled town, hands keeping him in a still vice. Quickly, Virion nodded up and down, a drop of sweat coming upon his brow.

Cherche then looked at the wounded townsman, and her expression instantly softened into her usual calm and amicable self. "Oh dear, you're terribly hurt." She exclaimed, releasing her husband and moving over to Emmanuel. Virion himself took the chance to readjust his collar. "Come, come. Minerva and I will take you to our healers at once." She affirmed, guiding the man over before he could even protest. Not that he would, a free ride out of the blaze was exactly what he wanted.

"Ah, my dear? What about me?" Virion called as the two took their places upon the wyvern's back.

"Captain Takeda can ferry you back." Cherche chirped nonchalantly, clearly not planning to take her spouse anywhere at the moment. Knowing that it wasn't even worth complaining, Virion stayed silent as the Duchess took off into the air back towards where they came from.

Defeated, Virion turned to face a clearly amused Subaki. The sky knight turned bow knight was smiling happily, trying his best to keep a laugh down as Virion dejectedly slumped. Even his subordinates were taking joy at his pain.

"Well… that could have gone better." Virion admitted, readying himself back up and resuming his usual facade as he walked towards Subaki's horse. That was enough to get the Hoshidan to break out into laughter

Composing himself, Subaki fell in behind the noble as the two made their way back.

* * *

"For what it's worth, my wife would have reacted the same way." Subaki consoled.

The two men were now sitting at a controlled campfire back behind the army's line. A few Roseannian Commanders took their men forwards to purge the town and put out the fire. Morgan had her troops set up a perimeter around the town itself and the army's camp, along with the new recruits. All that remained in the rear now were the healers, a few mages and some logistical troops.

Virion still sighed, arms resting in his hands as he saw the fire dance wildly in it's cage. "I am aware, Severa has that tendency with people she cares for. As does her sister, both got it from Cordelia."

Subaki nodded in comprehension, poking the wood beneath the flame with a stick. "Does she resemble her mother very much?"

Virion snorted at the thought, his mouth curling a bit as he smirked from the memories. "Yes. More than the girl would like to admit. Both of them act very differently for the exact same reasons, I tend to find."

"Those reasons being?" Subaki questioned. Virion himself was unsure if this was idle small-talk or genuine curiosity from the foreigner's part, but there was no harm in giving him information about his own family.

"They want the people around them to do better. They want the people around them to be happy. They are both prideful and vain, while also being humble and simple in the same way." Virion explained, drawing what similarities he could between both of the red haired Ylisseans. He was still not used to Severa losing her snow white hair. That and the girl's pale tone was were the only physical traits she inherited from her father. "Neither knows how to handle failure or pain well. Neither enjoys being weak, and takes great strides to avoid it. Both are… exceptional women. I always did enjoy Cordelia's company."

"So much that you tried to bed her, according to Selena." Subaki commented, still chuckling to himself at Virion's expense.

Another thing he was yet to get used to, the name Severa had taken during her time away from home. Did she prefer her new alias? Or was she happier being known by her birth name? One of these days, he had to ask. "Bed her? Does she think me some heartless rogue, only interested in poaching the affections of the beauties of the world?" Virion questioned, sitting up and smiling again as always. "The great Virion is so much more than that! He is a soother of wounded souls! A healer of fractured hearts. One who comes forth, and aids the maidens of the world. Selflessly, and without hesitation!"

Subaki rolled his eyes, pulling his stick back and setting it to the side. "Keep saying that, I'm sure the Duchess would love to know about how you sooth the souls of women other than her."

"I…would prefer not." Virion admitted quickly, looking over his shoulder to see if his partner was within earshot. "Besides, those days are behind me. A cruel blow to the lovelorn across the land, for sure."

"But perhaps not their ears." Subaki mumbled.

"But, enough about me Captain!" Virion exclaimed, turning back to face Subaki. "I wish to know about you! The mystery man who has taken such a troubled girl's heart."

"I'm a fairly open book, your grace." Subaki readily admitted.

"Virion! Call me Virion! There is no need for formality among friends." He requested

"...Right. Well…" Subaki thought for a moment, before he spoke. "I come from a Kingdom known as Hoshido." As he said the name, Virion's eyes widened. "My family is a long line of sky knights. From the early days of our nation's existence, we rode pegesai. My mother and father did, just as my grandfather and his brother did, just as his grandmother, and so on."

"Men can ride pegasus in Hoshido?" Virion asked in fascination. The entire idea was alien to the man, the very idea of a pegasus knight was a feminine icon across Valm, Ylisse, Jugdral and Elibe.

"Indeed. The retenue was always rather mixed. My liege Princess Hinoka herself was one of the most skilled knights I knew. But of course, everything she learned, she learned from myself." Subaki smiled at the memory of showing a younger Hinoka the basics of mounting such a steed. Early on the woman had the same issue his wife still clung to, unfettered anger. But over time, as the two grew close, she learned to control it. Then, release it. They grew a bond as close as siblings during that time.

"A rider of high enough caliber to train royalty. I am impressed." Virion conceded. "Tell me, do you miss your home? Do you plan to visit it?"

The idea struck Subaki as silly, but he didn't take any offense from the question. It was harmless, Virion couldn't know about the fact that he couldn't return to Hoshido. Besides, he had a truth to the matter. "My home is with my daughter and my wife. The rest comes with them."

The Duke raised an eyebrow. "So sure of that belief?"

"Not completely sure, I admit." Subaki pressed further. "There are times I wonder about the land I left behind. How my friends, how my family are. If they miss me as much as I do miss them." Subaki admitted forlornly. Speaking from the heart was something he was trying to do more often, not wishing to keep up the air that had driven so many people from him back home. "But… one has to think about what makes them happy."

"One's family certainly does that."

"Indeed." Subaki agreed. "It's funny. When I was young, I never wanted a child. I found them to be obnoxious burdens. But then Selena became pregnant. And, well..." He thought back to his daughter's birth in that army tent. That July night was much like this one, dark and cool. A flippant monk named Azama acted as the midwife for the procedure, cracking crass jokes as Selena brought Caeldori into the world. He still remembered the feeling of holding her in his arms. So small, so warm, so radiant, even then. Instantly Subaki felt drawn to protect her from the world around them. Such a violent, irrational one where people died on the whims of another. He wanted her to be happy.

For the first time in his life, he wanted someone to be better than him.

"Say no more. As a fellow father, I understand." Virion finished, thinking back himself to when the Gerome of this time was born. He himself was the opposite, he looked forward to the day of becoming a father from a young age. But when that day finally came, when he held the infant boy in his own arms… all he had felt was fear. Fear that he wouldn't live up to the standard his son deserved.

Subaki looked over Virion shoulder, going deathly silent and standing up. The Captain shuffled away without a world, disappearing behind the wagon train. Virion, lost in thought, didn't notice until a new pair of boots came to a halt next to him. He looked up to see none other than Cherche. A pang of worry came to mind, and he quickly looked to discover Subaki's flight.

"...Well if you wish to expedite your earlier offer, there appear to be no witnesses." Virion meekly joked. Cherche didn't respond in kind, instead dragging a stool over and sitting herself next to the man. The woman's gloves and armor were gone, all that remained was her usual winged headdress and blouse. "I take it you heard the entire conversation?"

"Unfortunately for you, yes." The Duchess replied, though her tone lacked malice. In fact, it was softer than usual. Not happy, but sincere. "So, what do you think?" She asked.

"Severa is in good hands. She picked an honest man to wed." Virion affirmed, sighing in relief. "Were you also so lucky?"

"Remember what I said when you proposed, love. You have not strayed, so you remain as you are." The woman joked, laughing quietly before continuing her thought. "You feel very responsible for her."

"Truth be told, my dear, I feel responsible for all of the children." Virion stated, furrowing his brow as the other future children also came to mind. "They went through so much, and we became their only refuge. It feels like my duty to watch over them."

"You have enough duties as is." Cherche crooned, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Terribly uncompromising as always."

"Yet continuing in failure." The man's shoulders sagged as dread came over him. The exhaustion and realization of the night's events hit him all at once like a griffon tackle. The risen were back, the risen were attacking his people. He couldn't fight them and the Valentians at the same time. There weren't enough soldiers in the Duchy. He certainly couldn't do it alone, as today attested. "I thought that helping kill a devil like Grima would entitle me to an easier life. What a fool I was."

"Life does not get easier, we merely gain the skills to go through it more prepared." Cherche advised, giving the man's shoulder a squeeze. "You musn't blame yourself for things that are not your fault."

"Hm. Like the fact that our son and his wife and hanging by a thread in our home?" Virion asked bitterly.

"They will survive. I know it, as do you." Cherche replied.

"No, I do not." Virion stated. "I do not know that at all. For all I do know, they may already be dead. My grandson may be an orphan, all because I was foolish enough to let them come here to help."

"That was their choice, and neither would have accepted your refusal." Cherche spoke with a hardened tone, this time grabbing her husband's chin and turning it towards her. "Do you remember what I told you during the Liberation? What exactly did I tell you?"

"That you will put no account of me when you need to make the choices for what is best?" He answered in the same, depressed tone.

"Yes, and I stand by my answer to that." She started. "What else did I say?"

"You made me promise. Not to surrender to hopelessness and despair." He informed, recalling the conversation like it was a recent happening. The two were having it over a kettle of tea, right after they landed at Valm's main harbor and saved the then Princess Say'ri.

"Indeed. And you will not break that promise, under any circumstances. Or else there will be consequences."

"Let me guess, Minerva will have me as a snack?"

"Yes, but not on my order. Only because you'll have broken my heart completely." Cherche smiled at her husband, dropping her hands and grabbing his as she stared into his eyes. "You are a good man, my Lord. You do well, and you mean well. There is no one else I would rather have had as the father of my child."

"You give me more credit than evidence says I deserve." Virion begrudgingly stated. Behind his eyes however, there was that rekindling of hope. And the silent gratitude that his wife had come to light it back as the flames had nearly died out. She always did that for him. Beyond the threats. "Thank you for this, my rose."

"Anything for you, my love." Cherche answered. With that, the two leaned forwards and embraced. Sharing a kiss next to the crackling flames in peace.

* * *

Far away, on the eastern coast of the continent. A castle stood in the heart of the Kingdom of Valm. Green and yellow banners had long replaced the red and black of Walhart's dominion. The city of Rigel had been transformed after the war, revitalized. Under the new Royal, it's people also found prosperity and peace. People walked it's streets free of fear and want, commerce and good flowed in and out of the gates. Purpose and new rule had given the people back their lives, fresh and free.

So much so, that very few noticed the large shadow that flew above them and into Rigel Castle itself.

In the throne room, a young man by the name of Albien sat speaking to a pair of Generals. The King's armor was lighter than most royals, merely a grey chest piece and some pointed gauntlets. A tuft of green hair sat atop his head, along with a simple wreath crown. All was going the same as any other day as his Kingdom readied for the start of the coming war. Plans and supply lines, diplomacy and bargaining. Matters of state, those that frustratingly were taking more and more time away from the twenty year old's focus upon the direct issues of his own people. But his campaign was necessary, for their sake and all others.

When suddenly, a loud crash sounded on the other side of the throne room's door. All at once, everyone in the room came to attention. The royal guardsmen all drew their weapons, aiming them towards the door. The two generals spun about and drew their weapons, one bringing out an axe while the other hefted a short spear. Crash happened again, and again, like massive footsteps.

The doors were then smashed open at once, a large green figure stomping into the hall. Each step left an imprint upon the intricate tile, shaking the room wildly. The creature's wings lofted out around it's form, the head and eyes glaring forth and ignoring all those around it. It's focus was on a single man. King Albien, standing at the end of the hall.

"Stand down!" The king ordered, lifting both hands and waving to the men as he came forth. The guardsmen compiled without hesitation, lowering their weapons and resuming their posts. The two men reluctantly sheathed their own arms, glaring off at the large figure.

Albien appeared more annoyed than afraid, if anything. Marching at the creature with a pep in his step and a chip on his shoulder.

"Lady Tiki, with all due pardon, what in the name of the **seven hells** are you doing to this castle!?" He exclaimed, throwing his hands above his head in frustration. "Do you realize the damage you've caused? Did you injure anyone on the way here!?"

" **Your men refused me passage, so I admitted myself directly."** The manakete explained, maintaining her dragon form. Her mouth didn't open, instead her voice merely echoed about the chamber like it's own presence. " **You have much to answer for, King."**

Albien stopped in his tracks, folding his arms over his chest as he looked to the Divine Dragon. He wasn't afraid of the ancient woman, but he certainly was appalled. "Whatever happened must have been quite appalling, her Holiness usually isn't one for such violent methods."

" **That makes one of us."** Tiki rumbled, before finally opening her mouth. A small object fell from her mouth, clattering onto the floor at the feet of the young royal. He bent down to pick it up, shocked to see what it was.

"...This can't be real." He stated, glaring at the Risen mask now in his grasp.

" **You know better than to claim me a liar, Albien."** Tiki answered in kind, shifting forward so her snout was raised just above the boy's head. " **There is a dark essence in your domain."**

"You don't think me responsible for this, do you?" He retorted, gripping the mask and glaring at the large red eyes that bore down upon him. "I understand you do not agree with my campaign, your grace. But to accuse me of this? This _evil?_ I would never partake in such insanity!"

" **Yet you seem keen on repeating Walhart's follies."** The dragon rumbled back, rearing her head once more and sitting herself down on the floor. The room shook with that movement, sprinkles of dust coming down around them.

"We've had this debate before. My Uncle's means were unforgivable, but his ends are for the benefit of all in Valm." Albien answered, looking back down at the mask. Curses flowed through his mind like a river. Of all things to occur, this had to be it. "Where did you find this? I must send people to remove this ulcer immediately."

Something resembling a growl was his answer. " **The Risen from that party are all dealt with, young one. But more will come."**

"Then we need to act before this plague spreads to the rest of the damned continent!" Albien exclaimed once more, turning about to his Generals. "Get a pair of messengers here immediately!"

Both men bowed, then split off to follow their directives. All the while behind the royal, a green light shined brightly. Slowly, the dragon dissipated away. In its place stood a woman who appeared in her mid twenties, long green hair and a simple red vest being her two most notable features.

Albien turned back at once, moving forwards and offering the mask back to the woman. She took it back into her grasp, still glaring at him with distrust as he stood proudly in front of her. He wasn't afraid of Tiki, he knew the woman wouldn't harm him unless he fell to the same madness of his predecessor.

But the Risen? He feared them more than damnation itself.

* * *

 _ **A/N: I've decided to start a new project alongside this story. It's a long term fanfiction, not like the one-off I did last time with the kids. Odds are it will be up within the next week or two. For those interested, it's an Awakening novelization. But in a way that I think is unique from how it's been done already.**_

 _ **Regardless, I'll be jumping between this and that project. The paralogues for this story are always fun for me to write up, giving other characters the spotlight helps me make the world seem more lifelike. Virion hasn't gotten much in this series, and that's a shame considering he is genuinely my favorite character from the game.**_

 _ **But I think this chapter personified him well. See you guys next time**_

 _ **o/**_


	18. C-14: Play it Back

The ride back is mostly silent. Blanche is keeping to herself again, observing the trail and staying behind me. I doubt that we'll run into more risen out here anyway, the path we're on now is surrounded by fields on both sides. Unless they've learned to turn invisible, we'll be fine. Then again, after having to fight Anakos' Vallites, I think I've had my fill of invisible enemies to last me a lifetime.

Every once in a while I can see Blanche stare at me. Just long enough for me to notice, but quick enough that she's clearly trying to hide it. Ever since we spoke with the curate in Lorraine she's been acting more distant. Whatever camaraderie she was tried to drum up's dead in the air. Which, honestly isn't much of a loss. I don't fancy making friends with people who fought for Walhart's war machine.

Still, it's creeping me out.

"Are you gonna tell me what's wrong, your Holiness?" I call over my shoulder, Blanche's head shooting forward in surprise. It takes her a moment to force a scowl, but she starts trotting up to my side regardless.

"This road usually has farmers transporting goods. Yet we are the only ones here." She explains, though it's as if speaking to me is causing her physical pain with how her mouth's twisted. Is that even a sneer? Or is she trying to scratch her nose with her lip?

"There's a war on, they might've had a change of plans." I rationalize, taking a canteen off my hip and shaking it next to my ear. Empty, great. I swore I filled this thing up before we left too.

One more of her signature scoffs. She's looking at me like I said the stupidest thing in the world. "Not when your livelihood depends on crop sales. Then again, I doubt you know anything about farm work."

My eyes do a full rotation in my head. "Yeah, because I didn't grow up in the sticks. I'm a civilized girl."

"Everything I have seen from you points to the exact opposite of your being civilized." She answers in a deadpan.

"Says the genocide enabler." I spit back, and she immediately shuts up. So, mentioning her past can make her stop running her mouth. Good to know, pocket that information for later when I need to make her feel bad.

"Look." I start again. "There's a million different reasons why this road's empty. Let's not assume the worst."

"And if I'm right?" The Cleric asks in a small voice. I don't know what she's scared of, the risen or what happened to the town's people.

"Then we fix it." I answer. Then smile, before I keep rolling on. "Well, I fix it, and you bumble around like a ditz again."

I take her groan as a vote of confidence as we keep riding onwards. Maybe she deserves a bit more leeway than I'm giving her. Blanche is on the right side now, and she knows what she did was wrong. Plus she's Cherche's family, after the risen she might be the only family she has. But… ugh. Her attitude, her snot nosed tone of voice, the way she always looks at me like I'm an ant.

Mother would want me to be the better person, I know that. But why does it have to be so damn hard? Why does being _nice_ have to be hard for me now…

* * *

Apparently this pile of tinder used to be called Geneve. It was a larger settlement, lot of people lived here. But the town's completely empty now. Houses are hollow and even the dead have been moved. The place still reeks of risen, I find a few masks during our search still buried underneath the rubble. There's plenty of signs of struggle as well, and tracks leading all over the area. Which means…

"The Army was here for certain." Blanche explains, digging out a book from the ash and wiping the cover clean. She's cradling it like some kind of lost treasure, irises soft and wounded. Her mood always tends to shift with the mood of the setting. When others are relaxed, she's relaxed. When others are upset, she's upset. I guess that's why she's always wound up around me.

"That, or a stampede of cattle." I sit down on a beam of charred wood, sighing as I try to work the kinks out of my back. "What's the plan then, keep looking for risen or rejoin the main body?"

"I… I don't know." She moves over to stand at a ruined store front, leaning herself against the scorched cobble. Her Holiness' shoulders sag like they're being weighed down by stone as she flips the book open and begins to scan what's inside. "Do risen tend to clean up the dead?"

"No, but that's because the dead usually turn into risen." I clarify, wincing as I see more panic radiate from the clergywoman. "But I doubt that happened. You saw the tracks coming into and leaving the town."

Blanche muttered something under her breath, before turning a page. "Do you believe they evacuated the town?"

"Yeah, I do. So quit fussing." I order, stretching out both my legs and resting myself back. Not really the most comfortable of seating arrangements, but it's better than being stuck in a saddle with the leather riding up my hide again.

"...How do you take all of this in such stride?" Blanche asks me as she closes the book, holding it to her side as she moves in front of me and stares down. "An entire town burned to a crisp and it effects you about as much as a walk in the forest."

The answer should be obvious at this point, but I'll spell it out for her anyway. "I'm used to seeing the aftermath of these attacks. Burned down homes start to blur together after the first hundred."

"So you're simply desensitized." She replies, glare hardening back up. Suppose she didn't like that kind of answer.

"Yeah. I guess I am. I've seen enough villages burn and I've burned plenty myself." That last tidbit made her look at me warily. "The last nation I worked for invaded another one. The King basically had us destroy everything in our way."

"And you cooperated? You helped destroy homes?" I know that tone of voice all too well. Disbelief, resent, loathing. Can't even bring myself to look at her because for once she's honestly justified in all of that.

"If you're going to try and guilt trip me, Blanche, you're a bit late." I dismiss at once, shutting my eyes and thinking back to the start of Nohr's attack on Hoshido. "You can't make me feel any worse about it."

Everywhere I go it's the same story. Someone or something's trying to take over or destroy something else. Gangrel trying to destroy Ylisse. Walhart trying to conquer the continent. Grima trying to destroy the world. Nohr was just more of the same. An insane man, working under an insane dragon, trying to kill everything.

Except here's the kicker; I helped. What happened in Hoshido was nothing short of a horror story. Garon had the Army kill or burn everything we came across. Leveling buildings, tearing apart roads, torching crop fields. All the Hoshidans either ran or got killed. Meanwhile I was just watching it all unfold, keeping up a smile next to Camilla and Beruka.

It's hard to think that I was the bad guy. Sure, I didn't kill anyone. But I lit more than a few houses on fire. Broke plenty things, hurt plenty of people. When I finally ran into Inigo and Owain again, none of us even spoke. We all felt guilty, it wasn't what we'd come there to do. Our job was to save Corrin and help Anakos. Not turn into the people we fought back home.

And now we're back, and nothing's changed. The risen are still wandering around, innocent people are still dying, someone's trying to take over the world _again,_ and my father's sacrifice meant nothing at all. It's as if everyone reversed all the work we did just to make us play through the script all over again. All I wanted was a safe place to raise a family. Maybe down the line, Subaki and I could've had another kid. No deeprealms, no child soldiering. Someone in my family could finally have a peaceful life.

But no, it's all thrown in the wind now. And I'm stuck playing the same roles I always have been. Nothing's changed. _I_ haven't changed.

The beam of wood creaks loudly as Blanche sits herself down next to me. Both of my eyes shoot open and focus on her at once. "So you're willing to send me down river for working for Walhart, yet it appears you've done plenty you are not proud of yourself." She ponders out loud, fiddling with her thumbs.

"I didn't start this little feud." I counter on instinct, narrowing my gaze.

"No, but you've helped keep it going." She answers calmly, before sighing. "We can't keep going back and forth like this. One of us is going to drive the other insane."

"We haven't already?" I joke, much to the dismay of my audience.

"Would you _please_ stop? I am trying to be sincere." She pleads, frowning at me in disappointment. I decide to clam my mouth shut and let her go on. "We need to work together, we both have the same goals and… similar morals. And similar mistakes."

"An olive branch? Where'd this come from?" I ask incredually.

"Thank Father Jules. He advised that I started treating you with more respect." Blanche laughs at the mention of the old man. She's smiling again. A real one, not the kind she usually puts on for pleasantries.

So I've got the curate to thank for this sudden shift in emotions. Wonderful. "You and him seem pretty close. There a story with that?"

"He um… he basically raised Cherche and myself." She explained, nervously rubbing the back of her neck. "Both of our parents sent us off to be clerics. She left the clergy when she became eighteen, while I remained a woman of the cloth."

"Wow. Your parents dumped you both off like that?"

She shakes her head so hard I'm worried it's gonna fly off. "No, no. They visited us often. Our family is just very religious. My mother was a Cleric, Cherche's father was a Monk. We were merely following the footsteps of those who came before. Very much like your sister and your own parents."

"Hrm. Fine." I think about the idea. Burying the hatchet is the smartest play. Even if neither of us trust one another, being openly hostile is fruitless. I want to hate her, I've got every reason to. From the bigotry to the insults to the _choking me out_. No one could blame me. But… be the better person. Be the person Mother would want you to be. "So we make nice and act chummy now?"

"We start over and give one another a second chance." She amends, extending a hand over to me. Just like how Jules did back in the chapel.

I shake it in acceptance. Completely expect this agreement to crash and burn within a few days, but I'm not going to be the person to stop it from working. If I really want to be a better person, I need to start now.

After that we give the town another quick search to confirm our initial discovery. From there we make our way back to the horses and ride back out following the mass of tracks. The footprints are moving off the road at this point, almost the entire settlement seems to have come along for the rest of the march. You'd think they'd've gone north towards the capitol. Maybe they don't feel safe going on the roads alone anymore, not that I could blame them.

* * *

Another long ride passes until we reach the new camp. The sun's gone past it's zenith, we're well into the afternoon as we pass the perimeter guards. A few of them throw a salute Blanche's way and a nod towards mine. I recognise a few of them from the formation back in the city. Subaki's already gotten to work without me, at least they're wearing their uniforms on the right way.

Once we reach the stables, I leave Blanche behind and peel my way through the camp. It's been days since I've seen any of my family, and I need to make sure they're all intact. Subaki's probably off drilling some of the recruits, so looking for him's a bad idea right now. Morgan's most likely drafting plans in whatever command tent she has set up, and bothering her during her 'brainstorming sessions' is not a mistake I'm going to make again. Still have the bald-spot on my head from the last time.

That leaves my daughter. And I know where she's going to be.

Finding the camp armory was pretty easy, it's usually one of the center tents away from the border. Along the way I end up passing quite a few other tents filled to the brim with refugees from Geneve. Men, women and children all covered in soot and scorch marks. They look at the Ylissean brand on my sleeve with trepidation, wary at the sight of a foreigner so close. Still, there's a lot of them. Means that not many people died in the raid. Silver linings, Severa. Silver linings.

Once I get to my destination, I key into the sound of a conversation going on between a group of three. Two men who I don't know, and a girl that's distinctively Caeldori. It seems rather ragged, but present.

"Here's the plan for the Armory's layout. I trust you two can follow it well?" Caeldori begins. She sounds so different whenever she's commanding people. Tort and gruff, no nonsense. Wonder where she got that from.

"Of course milady. We were both carpenters in Geneve, y'know!" One of the men answers. Lower voice, sounds like someone who smokes pretty often.

"We know our way around an axe and a hammer. But these plans are pretty unique. Are they foreign?" This one sounds similar, but younger. Less scratchy as well.

"It's a prototype I used long ago. I've adapted it and improved it to fit the Army's standards." Caeldori swiftly clarifies. "Regardless, I need this building erected by noon's time two days from now. You're both free to recruit whomever you deem fit. Pay is not an issue."

"Don't worry, we can get this fixed up in half that time. Right brother?"

"Right Pierre." The next voice answers pridefully.

"Excellent. I'll inspect your progress at this time tomorrow. You're both dismissed."

I duck behind the flap of the tent as the two make their way past, not wanting to be given away as I curve my head around to see inside after they've both fully left the area. To my relief, Caeldori doesn't seem injured at all. Her armor's still intact, and by the looks of things she's shined it again recently. Right now she's just bent over a table, quill in hand as she scribbles messages wildly across multiple pieces of parchment. All of the walls in the tent are filled with weapon racks, most of them hastily set up but the blades themselves seem straightened out. Almost most likely her handiwork.

So I pace my way inside, sliding myself behind the junior officer and peering over her shoulder. The charts she's working with are almost beyond me, but I can tell they're even more building plans. Since when did my little girl turn into an architect? One looks like a sentry tower, another seems to be a layout for the mess hall. The final one is probably going to be a map of the whole base she has imagined up.

As I move away from her to an empty spot in the weapon racks, she speaks. "Do you need something? The armory's closed for maintenance." Caeldori calls to me, and I can sense the fatigue in her voice. Knowing her, she probably hasn't slept since everyone arrived here.

I remove my sword and shield from my body, setting them down onto the rack next to Caeldori's naginata. It's also sparkling clean, just like everything else. "A hug from my daughter would be a good start." I reply, dusting some soot off of the my buckler.

Before I even turn around, I get what I ask for. The full force of the sky knight hitting my back and wrapping me up in her arms. Almost lose my balance too, if I didn't grab onto the wooden stand and keep myself still. "Hey, easy!" I manage out between laughter. "I don't want to ruin all the work you did here by falling over!"

Her grip loosens, but she doesn't let me go fully. I manage to turn myself around and return the hug, brushing my lips against her main of red hair and bringing her closer now that I was stable. "I'm glad you're safe Caeldori. When I saw the town I almost had a panic attack."

"How do you think we felt when Virion told us you weren't coming back on time?" Caeldori replies, her voice cracking as she buries her face deep into my stomach. "After that letter you didn't send anything! For all we knew another group of those _**things**_ could have eaten you or something!"

"Risen don't eat people, sweetheart." I chirp, combing her hair with my hand very slowly. She always puts so much effort into her look, another habit she picked up from me. But there's a few imperfections on closer inspection. A few knots are forming, and the ends are becoming frayed. "Did you sleep at all when I was gone?"

I swear I can feel the heat come into her cheeks as she blushes, even if I can't see her face. "Does sleeping on Hinoka's back count?"

Gotta remind myself that she's talking about her pegasus and not the person. Would rather not have that image floating around in my head much longer. "No. Not even close. And when was the last time you ate?"

"I had a ration bar this morning!" She answers, popping up out of our embrace and staring upwards at me. She's lying and she knows I can tell, just by how she's shrinking away. "...Yesterday morning." She corrects. I fold my arms over my chest and she finally breaks. "Two nights ago." She finally admits. "I've been busy she exclaims, counting off her duties with a hand. "I've organized the refugees, stocked the food stores, helped build the stables, drawn up rosters for the new companies and updated the plans for my armory!"

"All in two days. I'd be impressed if I was anyone who wasn't your mother." It's a miracle she's even standing at this point, let alone working. I need to remember to give Subaki and Morgan a piece of my mind for letting her keep going on for this long without checking in. "We've been over this Caeldori. Overworking yourself will only make you work worse over time."

"But I'm fine! Really, I feel great!" She keeps insisting.

"Oh really?" She nods again, hopping up on both feet twice to show her energy. Of course what she also reveals is the strain it takes her to even bend her knees the entire way. Any more like this and she'll collapse. So I shake my head and take her by the arm, guiding her out of the tent. "Come on, you're showing me where my tent is."

"You don't want to find Father? Or Aunt Morgan?" I hear her call, slipping out of my grasp and matching my pace as we walk down the lanes between the canvas tarps.

Another shake of the head. "Both of them are busy and I'm bushed. We spent a whole day riding here."

"Weren't you just chastising me for not sleeping well?" Questions, questions, always questions with hers.

"Do as I say, not as I do." I answer, smirking down at the redhead as she pouts and looks away from me. "I'm allowed to be a hypocrite sometimes."

"You're a hypocrite all the time." Oh great, this is going to turn into another argument. "Honestly, would it hurt to follow your own advice once in a while?"

"Don't take that tone with me, Caeldori." I can hear my own voice become stern as I lift a finger up. "I tell you what I do for a reason. And I'm usually right."

"No you aren't. You're as reliable as a coin flip!" She exclaims, gesturing in front of her as she looks forward again. "One moment you say the right thing, the other you say the wrong thing. Sometimes we take the right course of action, other times we're stuck in a mess."

A few heads are turning now to stare over at our little exhibition, but I don't think either of us cares to do anything about it. I plant my feet in the ground and lift my arm up, Caeldori runs into it with an audible grunt. "Last I checked it was a group decision for us to stay in Roseanne. Unless I'm suddenly imagining that discussion we had back in Nellis."

"No, that was Father and I trying to do the right thing and both of us having to convince you to follow through. _You_ wanted to run off to the Valmese Harbor." Another few heads are looking now. Again my arms go over my chest as she stares up at me in contempt.

" _I_ wanted to avoid putting us all in the line of fire. If we'd gone with my plan, we'd already be two weeks at sea!" This is completely ridiculous. Why can't I ever just have a half-decent conversation with this girl without it turning into a debate?

"Oh, so it isn't much of a 'group decision' now is it?" She grumbles. If looks could kill, I'd be dead where I stand. Both of her eyes are boring into me. Red, just like Subaki's. Same with her hair. Same with her outfit. Same with her fighting style. The only thing my kid's inherited from me is my temper, smart-arse attitude and stubbornness.

I turn my head at the small crowd looking on, grinding my teeth together as they don't seem to budge. Lavender soldier uniforms with the flower of Roseanne clear on their sleeves. Actual soldiers would know better than to keep watching, so they're _also_ probably new recruits.

Guess it's time to finally pull rank. " **What are you monkeys looking at!?"** I bark out, snapping them all to attention. Caeldori turns faces the group as well, red in the face. Either she's angry or embarrassed, I'm gonna guess both. " **Does this look like some kind of stage-play?! Go do something useful and stop standing around like a bunch of cockatoos!"**

The five of them scatter like mice under a flame with that, almost falling over one another as they disappear into the rows and ranks of tent that surround us. Breath in, breath out. Try to relax, focus on the main problem. "Why do I have the feeling this isn't about coming to Roseanne at all?"

"No idea what you're talking about." She's a horrible liar. I guess that's another thing she got from me.

We're the only people around now. At least that's what it sounds like, no footsteps or grumbling. The lights behind the cloth aren't revealing any shadows cast against them. Doubt anyone's hiding, or stupid enough to try. So I may as well go at this whole hog.

"Do you think I'm a moron?" I start, placing my hand squarely on my hip.

"Sometimes, yes. I do." Caeldori answers candidly, matching my pose in sync. Cute. Bit weird but, cute.

"Mmhm. Was I being a moron in the Armory?" A plan starts to form in my head

"I know my limits, Captain." Titles. She knows I hate titles. Only stuffy and pompous people care about titles.

"Don't dodge the question then, Lieutenant. Answer it." I reply, playing tit for tat.

"No."

Good,time to switch the subject back to the real question. "Was I wrong about you being angry about something else?"

"No." Caeldori has to force herself to admit that. Still she's giving me the same smoldering glare I used to give her Grandmother.

Progress is progress though, let's see how far this can be taken. "Are you ever going to talk to me about it, or are we going to keep being passive aggressive with each other?" She doesn't answer, my eyes roll out of instinct. Please tell me I wasn't this much of a brat when I was her age. "For Gods' sake Caeldori, what do you want from me?"

"To stop treating me like a child!" She explodes, throwing both of her hands over her head at once. "You know I'm plenty capable! You're barely even older than me, what makes you think you can always tell me what to do?!"

Again I can feel my eyes roll. This is the most cliched argument I think we could be having, am I really trying to calm down a rebellious teenager? "I've also been through more than you, seen more than you, done more than you, and **know better than you**."

Caeldori scoffs, both her hands resting on her waist now as she cocks her hips. "I joined you in Queen Corrin's Army when I was _sixteen_ , I've started younger than most!"

"And I had to go into my first battlefield when I was thirteen, and unlike _you_ I didn't have my p-" I stop, looking around as it finally dawns on me why she didn't call me her mother out here. "I didn't have anyone to look after me."

"I did plenty fine on my own without either of you looking after me before. You both abandoned me in the deeprealms for years! I learned to take care of myself without relying on anyone else!" She shoots back at me, this whole situation is a far cry from Nellis. Back then she said it was her dream to be with Subaki and I, now she's trying to say she doesn't need either of us. Trying to assert her self-reliance, not like that was ever even the issue to begin with.

A million retorts run through my head, two ending up as my final answers. I could tell her to try going solo and see where that would take her. That'd end the conversation there, make her storm off, probably run off on Hinoka for a good while and get her hurt in more ways than one. Even with my kid I default to being nasty… what is wrong with me lately? Just explain your thoughts, Severa. Let her understand, don't expect her to know by default. "Caeldori, why do you think I tell you these things?"

"This is where you tell me it's because you care, right? I get it." She answers dismissively, looking off in the opposite direction. Probably also trying to see if we have more unwanted members of the peanut gallery.

"No." I pause for a beat, then correct myself. "Well, yes. But that isn't the main reason."

She looks at me expectantly. Not like the girl I used to know, hovering at my every move to watch and learn. But like a customer at a tavern, demanding the barkeep hand her over the order she made an hour ago. "Then what is it?"

She's all grown up now, she _doesn't_ need me to do things for her. But I still needed my Mother when I came back, just not how I expected. I need to put that into words once and for all.

"Because I've made more mistakes than anyone else I've ever known. I've been dragged through fight after fight after fight. Nearly been killed Gods knows how many times and I've killed Gods knows how many people. Naga knows I'm not proud of either of those things at all."

I seem to finally have her attention with that point, her disposition breaking as I give her the details. For the longest time I avoided telling Subaki about my past to avoid burdening him, but I swore that I'd never tell Caeldori. What I had to go through, she'll never experience. Either directly or from my stories, I don't care. "I want you to not repeat my failures. I want you to be a better person than I am. Yeah, I get it. I wasn't there for you at the start. And I hate myself for that. I always will. But I'm not going to let that stop me from doing what I can now. Alright?"

Dare I say I've actually stunned her quiet for a bit. Her eyes go up and down my form, focusing on my outfit. Whatever she was expecting, I guess a full blown spiel like that wasn't it. "...You need that washed." Caeldori says after a while, not able to lift her eyes above my collar.

"And I'm sure you'll do it for me even if I tell you not to." I answer, chuckling a bit. "But what I need now is you understand."

"I… yeah. I do." She admits. "I think that was the first time you ever admitted you were bad at something."

"Don't get used to it, being bad isn't a status quo I keep." I answer, looking back down the path of the camp. Gods this place is a maze, I need to make sure to make a map so I don't end up getting lost. "Let's finish this at my quarters then, OK?"

"Um… OK. OK." Caeldori answers, shuffling off with her head down towards the Ylissean tents. Small progress I guess. But it's better than nothing at all.


	19. C-15: Clerical Error

When we reached my tent, Subaki was waiting for us. After a quick embrace, and a gagging sound from Caeldori, he told us that we'd been called over to the Army's war room. That was in when it was still afternoon.

Now it's well past dusk, and I can _still_ hear four voices bickering back and forth. Over the course of what was once a civil conversation, it devolved into a non-stop yelling match split between two sides. Virion and Cherche, planning to take a battalion of soldiers forward and scour the entire border until every risen and Valentian soldier was dealt with. Morgan and Blanche, saying that it would be an immense waste of resources and a reckless move to put the two leaders of the nation at risk.

Meanwhile Subaki, Caeldori and I are outside, trying to get a head on what to do next. Subaki's pacing back and forth in front of the flap of the war room, marching like a toy soldier from Yuletide. Caeldori's managed to bait me into a game of War, no idea where she got the deck of cards. The argument's a good backdrop to the battle of luck we're having, she's up ten cards. That smug grin she has is driving me up the wall… it's not like this game even takes any brains to win.

The argument peaks out for a moment as I can hear Cherche screech something at her commanders, something about letting Minerva use them as a chew toy I think. Subaki jumps away from the door, staring at it fearfully before looking over his shoulder at the two of us. "When do you think they will let us inside?" He asks as I hear Blanche say she'll make a purse out of the Duchess' wyvern.

"When they either calm down or kill each other." I grumble back, slapping another card down as Caeldori sweeps the stack back into her hand once more. Why am I even still playing this? I hate card games. I barely even like board games, and at least those actually mean something to win or lose. "If you wanna dive into the lion's den, feel free wonder boy."

Something inside splinters, and we all tense up. "I enjoy keeping my limbs attached…" He affirms, going back to his paces afterwards. It doesn't sound like the debate is going to end anytime soon anyway, so waiting for them to tire each other out is for the best.

"Are you finally going to concede, Mother?" Caeldori asks innocently, eyelashes fluttering as her gaze focuses upon the remaining five cards in my hand. She's going to win, at this point she's just playing with her food.

"Not in my vocabulary." I answer, looking over my cards and picking one out. "What was the first rule we taught you?" I ask, placing another card down on the table.

"Quitting is failing. Failing isn't an option." She replies back, placing one of her own cards down. Higher suit, she takes this hand too.

"And if you're losing?" I press, putting another card down.

"Keep going until _they_ start losing." Another one of her hand comes down, another round won by her insane luck.

"And if you lose?" I put a card down, a six. She places a six. I place a jack, she places a jack. I put down a two…

Caeldori places down an ace, and cackles while she finally cleans me out entirely and claims victory.

"You only lose when you give up." She flashes a smile at me, and I roll my eyes.

"Good to know she listened to us back then more than she does now." Subaki comments, pulling up a chair and finally joining us at the table. At this point the world around us just morphs into white noise, the three of us focusing on one another. Caeldori's shuffling the deck, undoubtedly calling for a double or nothing. I'm just shifting my eyes between the both of them, wondering how we should move forwards.

Gerome and Cynthia's condition meant we had a big problem on our hands. Enemies patrolling the border meant enemies scouting out forts and outposts. For all we know they could start just sending small teams into the area, causing a mess and hurting Gods knows how many people. Apparently they already tried it once, and that's only the event we know about.

"You're thinking we need to strike." Subaki reads me like a book, scratching his forehead in thought. His pruned brow was rippled in thought as he mulled over the same information I was.

"I'm thinking we need to strike." I repeat. "Hit whatever they have in the woods, fast and hard. Then keep pushing until we get to their staging ground."

"I took stock of the supplies we have on station, we aren't prepared for an extended campaign Mother." Caeldori points out, all the while Subaki leans back in his seat. He's staring at me now, sizing me up the same way he did when we first met one another.

"That isn't what she means. You want to cut all the way to Nellis, don't you?" The tone in his voice bleeds caution. The plan was to just hold the line and break each wave of attacks. It was a safe plan, it was the expected plan. It was _Morgan's_ plan, and that alone should make me feel comfortable with going along with it.

Still… I don't like sitting around doing nothing.

"Right now I wanna go find whoever hurt my friends." I start to drum my fingers against both armrests. Come on, when are they going to stop fighting so we can actually do something about this mess?

"How do you even know the Duke's son and his wife? Are they from your original group?" Caeldori questioned, opting to put the deck squarely in the center of the table instead of dealing for another round. Suppose she's more interested in another one of my stories than playing card.

I nod, sitting back up in my chair and snatching the deck into my grasp. May as well shuffle and talk so I can stay distracted from my boredom. "Believe it or not, I never thought those two would get along. Cynthia's annoyingly happy all the time, and Gerome's annoyingly depressing. One rides a Pegasus, the other rides a wyvern. I guess they cancel each other out?"

"Like how father cancels out your yelling?" Caeldori teases with a grin, which only seems to grow as I stare her down while my hands keep moving with the deck. Subaki's throws his head back and laughs, as I flick my eyes over the both of them.

"Something like that." He confirms, beaming at me with a disarming smile. I drop the glare and return to focusing in the cards in my hand.

"It doesn't feel right." I finally admit, voice becoming small. I can hear my family tense up in their chairs as my tone gets low. "We fight through the end of the world, and now they might end up dying because of another stupid war."

"They'll be fine, Selena." I hear Subaki call. "The best healers in the region are at the castle, soon they'll be back up and fighting."

"And we'll be here keeping them all safe in the meantime!" Caeldori exclaims, I can almost imagine her puffing her chest out. That girl… I don't know how I raised a woman to be a better person than I am, but I'm glad I did.

"You sound like your Aunt. Then again, you two are like twins at this point." I lift my gaze to see my daughter shrink back down, edging away from a possible confrontation. It's true, she's been spending a lot more time with Morgan than with me. Can't help but feel like I did something wrong, somewhere. Maybe I'm just overthinking things, though. She just met the first member of her extended family in this world, it makes sense that she'd spend time with them…

I snap back to reality when I hear something large in the other room smash apart. All three of us grab for our sheathed weapons and rise to our feet, right before the yelling continues just the same as before.

"Is this normal in your world?" Subaki questions, edging closer to the door and preparing to open it. Caeldori and I follow behind him, the both of us using him somewhat like a shield for any thrown objects that might come our way.

"You get used to it, flyboy." I give him a nudge forwards, and he peels the door open. Quickly we file into the room… well, what's left of the room.

I dunno what I expected to see, but the two axes in the middle of a split table wasn't it. Wood and tapestry from the now derelict piece of furniture were strewn all over the room, as if someone had lobbed a firebomb into the center of it all. Do I even wanna find out what lead to this monstrosity…? No, no I don't.

The four of them have their heads shoved so far up their arses that they didn't even notice us come inside. Still just wrapped up in their own world, I wouldn't be surprised if they forgot what they were even fighting about. Subaki shakes his head and lets loose a sharp whistle, prompting them all to face us.

"So." Subaki claps his hands together, looking to the destruction about him with a sense of horror and amusement. He spoke to no one in particular, his gaze bouncing from person to person. Virion rubbed the back of his neck nervously, eying the damage done to his planning table. Morgan grabbed a chair that was knocked over, set it back up, and sat down. Blanche and Cherche both looked liable to murder the red-headed man on the spot, and then I noticed that both were lacking their usual weapons. Guess that explains the table.

"I suppose we'll clean this up first, then?" He finishes. I just shook my head covered my mouth, trying not to laugh.

* * *

"So Tiki knows then?" Morgan questions me as we're sitting in one of the command tents. The meeting was pretty short after Subaki's intervention. Both sides agreed to continue the debate tomorrow, after the scouts returned. So we went to the officer's section of the camp, and she showed me the rag-tag office that was set up for me. Subaki had the other half, the two rooms split by a patchwork tarp.

I nod, looking at the brown mush on my plate. Both of us are poking away at the meatloaf… thing that the cook put on our platters. Whatever the hell he made this from, I don't think it's supposed to be eaten. "She visited the Curate, and left him the mask. I take it Blanche gave it to you?"

Morgan nods, her own plate resting on her lap as she brought her feet onto my desk. I shoot her a glare she felt happy to ignore, rummaging through her satchel. "Already running experiments on it. Have a book of elder magic spells Tharja gave me for my twentieth birthday. You should actu-"

"Keep that stuff away from me." I cut her off, looking back to the brown-ish blob as I poke it with my fork. "You handle magic, I handle stabbing people. Alright?"

I can see her eyes roll from the corner of my vision. "Dark magic's always freaked you out. Even when we were kids you hated the stuff."

I snort, finally taking a piece of the sludge into my mouth. Actually tastes a lot better than it looks. I swallow and grab another piece before continuing. "Because, Morgan. Dark magic, plus our heritage, usually means bad things happening."

"Nothing's bad happened to me!" She protests.

"Yet."

"Ugh…" She groans, leaning her chair back. "You sound like Brady."

"Maybe you should listen to him more then." I point my for at her, wagging it back and forth. "His Dad's a better mage than you anyway, and Ricken hates elder tomes more than I do."

That gets her to stop slouching. She almost knocks her plate off of her lap as she shoots back up. "Hey, I resent that! I'm a jack of all trades! You think any of the other Shepherds can sling spells, fight with a lance _and_ sword, plus come up with battle plans?"

"Jack of all trades means you're a master of none, sis." I point out. "You aren't the best mage, that's Laurent. You aren't the best swordswoman, that's me." She cocks a brow at me, going back to rocking her chair with her feet on my desk. "Fine, that's Lucina." I admit. "You aren't the best with a lance, that's Kjelle by a mile. You aren't even the best flier, that's a tie between Cynthia and Gerome."

She stares at me for a moment, probably wishing she could zap me to ash with her mind. Too bad I'm too hungry to care. "Do you just… _love_ making me feel inadequate? I swear you enjoy this more than you should."

"I'm your older sister, it's my job to keep you humble." This stuff's actually really good, maybe I should ask for seconds. "Making your life harder's just a perk."

"Lovely." She grumbles, watching me start to actually chow down on the food. The way she's looking at me, it's like I'm eating a rotting carcass. "You uh… you know this stuff smells like Owain when he forgets to shower, right?"

I gag at the memory, but finish off my plate rather quickly. Even look over to the one that Morgan still has, and she hands it over without any fuss. Knowing her she has a stockpile of sweets or something in her tent anyway.

"Do you even know where Owain and Inigo are?" She asks me, pulling out a bag of something from her hip and popping it open. "You said you went off with them."

"And I was supposed to come back with them too." I put my newly acquired meal down, resting my elbows on the desk and propping my head on top. "They disappeared."

"What, as in they abandoned you?"

"As in they vanished." I grumble. My mood goes into the doldrums as I think back to my two missing friends and their families. Where they went, how they are. Did they end up in a different part of the world, maybe? The last time I crossed time and space, we were thrown all over.

"...Then we need to find them." Morgan answers, her eyes twinkling at the idea of a new adventure. "Once we're done here, we gonna find out where they are."

"We don't have a clue where they are." I point out. "We have no idea where to start."

"Since when has that stopped us before? We jumped through a wormhole in time for crying out loud!"

"Pipe down, will ya?" I growl out. "Remember, we aren't supposed to talk about that."

"Oh come on, no one can hear us." Morgan dismisses as she waves her hands.

"I'm not taking the risk." I finish, not letting her play this off like a joke.

"Fine, fine." She lowers the tone of her voice to a more drowned level, pausing her rocking once more. "...So, Owain and Inigo. Did they change any?"

I swear, every time we have a moment alone she keeps asking me about what happened. I'm not surprised, but there's a lot I also don't want to remember. "I told you, Owain's a mage now and Inigo's fighting the same as his father."

"Not what I meant. I meant their personality. You sure changed plenty."

"Really now? How."

"You're a lot less brash. Sure, you've still got a fuse shorter than bobby pin and a knife for a tongue, but you actually think before you act." I think back to the several explosions I've had since I came here. "Well, usually." She corrects, probably remembering the spat I had in Viron Keep.

"Mmhm." I answer, grabbing the meatloaf once more and scooping up another fork full.

"You're uh… nicer, than before." She observed. "When I saw you again when we came here, you were a lot more brutal around everyone. Mom, Dad, Lucy, Cynthia, all of our other friends, _other people_?"

"Guess I earned that ice queen nickname." I joke, but that just sparks another revelation from Morgan.

"And that's another thing!" My sister points out. "You never let anyone criticize you before! If anyone ever said anything bad about you, you'd either storm off or have a breakdown!"

"Only people I let criticize me are you and Subaki." I wince at her assessment, thinking back. Was I… really that bad of a person? I mean, sure, I was usually happy to tear someone a new arsehole. But only if they deserved it. Right?

"Either way-" She calms herself down. "-you just seem more mature is all!"

"I had a kid and mellowed out, like you wanted." I rebuke, using her words from that cafe a while ago. "I'm just trying to be a good role-model, Morg. Like Dad was for you."

"And Mom was for you?" She follows up.

I shrug, mulling that phrase over in my head. "...Maybe. Sometimes I wonder if she'd really be happy with how I turned out."

"What?" She asks incredulously, leaning forward and shaking her head in denial. "Hey, come on! You know Mom's happy with how you are. You and her were basically inseparable after we finally defeated Grima. She even taught you how to ride a Pegasus again!"

"I dunno." I admit, setting the empty plate down and thinking back, before shaking the thoughts out of my head. "Anyway, yeah. They changed a bit. Owain's gotten even more dramatic and Inigo's… well, he _was_ happier for a while. Then we decided to come back and things got… complex, with his family."

I could tell she wanted to know more, her eyes were wide with saucers in anticipation. But I couldn't bring myself to mention it. What happened before we left was nothing short of a mess, one I'm not revisiting now. "But yeah, they both got hitched. They're Dads now too, so, take that how you will."

Morgan clearly wasn't happy that I dodged the subject, but she let it drop. For now, at least. Instead she just went along with my shift in the conversation, digging through a satchel she brought along and pulling out a comically thick stack of papers, barely bound together with a tie of string. "Well I'm looking forward to it. Their kids are probably gonna be a blast to mess with."

As she says that, she places the stack of papers on my desk. I grab it and drag it over, flipping through the pieces and papers. Rosters, stocks, requisition papers, training schedules, contracts, payment billets… "You want me to read over all of this?"

"And fill out what you need, yeah." Morgan confirmed, standing up to her feet. "I already made Caeldori your second, but she can't do all the work."

"She's gonna try." I tell her. Even if I do this myself, she'll probably intercept it and correct it herself before it reaches Morgan.

"Well, you're gonna need to work fast. I need that all done soon." Morgan clarifies, her demeanor turning oddly neutral. Her mood shifts, and she's acting like someone who's secretly grinning on the inside. "As in tomorrow. Afternoon. Before the next command meeting."

My eyes go wide as I look back to her, then the stack in my hands, then to her again. This pile feels as heavy as a boulder, and half as tall. It'll take me all night before I'm even done reading this, let alone filling out every log and chart. "This has to be one of your pranks."

"Nope." She answers, her tone turning smug. "Everyone else has had a few days to do this, but you weren't here soooooo…"

"B-but-" I stammer setting the stack down and standing up. I round the table, arms waving around. "I was busy! Fighting things! Finding out things! You can't do this! There's gotta be someone else who can handle this!"

She sucks in a breath, wincing at me like I'm a wounded deer. "Ahhh, nope. Caeldori might be able to help, if you get her off her other duties. But everyone else is occupied! Including your hubby, so don't try."

This can't be happening. I can't be forced to become some kind of secretary! I'm a soldier! I fight things, go into epic battles, have songs and sonnets written about my great deeds! I don't sit at a desk and do _paperwork!_

"Morgan." I grab her shoulders, looking into her eyes. Honestly I'm about to go down on both knees and beg. "Please. _Please._ There's gotta be someone else. H-how about you! You've got free time, right!? I'll pay you back, I swear! Next town we're in, I'll take you to whatever restaurant you want! I'll empty out the bookstore and get you every tactical book they have!"

She shakes her head, red fluffy bangs bouncing up and down. The corner of her mouth is starting to betray a smile. "Nope. I'm helping train the new pegasus knights Virion's recruited. Sorry."

"Come _on!_ " I plead desperately, shaking her once. "Please! Do it for your big sister! You know I'm good for it."

She shakes her head again, tutting at me as she shrugs my hands off. "Sorry, Sev. As the Commander, you know I can't make exceptions for anyone. Family included!"

That's when the grin finally breaks out. She planned this from the beginning. One last prank to give me hell before the fighting starts. Or, knowing my luck, the first in a series of jokes involving her flexing her newfound authority on me. And I can't do anything about it except run, which she _knows_ I won't do.

"Heeeey, don't worry about it!" She claps my shoulder and gives me a thumbs up. "You'll do fine! You're the best at everything, remember!" When I just stare blankly back at her, hoping for some kind of mercy to come from all of this. But I'm given nothing, all I see is that sadistic twinkle in her eye as she slips past me. "Anyway, I've gotta go! Girl's gotta get her beauty sleep!" She calls over as I hear her go through the flap of the tent.

Once she's out, I just collapse into a heap on the grassy floor.

Naga, save me. Please…

* * *

"-tain? Is sh-" I hear something say near me. It's distant and slurred, but sounds familiar. Like a younger boy. Everything around me's dark though. Am I in a cave? But, I was in my tent… well, it's peaceful I guess. Nothing really but silence, and I feel like I'm floating. Hrng...

"Sha-... -ke up." I hear next. Girl, _definitely_ know her. But… what. Someone's touching me. Why's the world rattling…? Ugh, what a nuisance. Just leave me alo-

" **HEY, CAP! WAKE UP!"** The girl screams into my right ear, and my eyes shoot open as I fly to the right. Again I'm a mess on the floor, this time resting on my side as I clutch my head from the ringing.

I blink a few times as light finally comes in and reveals the world around me. I _am_ still in my tent, and judging from my position, I was asleep in my now knocked over chair. I can see a man poking his head through the dividing flap, Subaki's face creased with concern as three others stand over me.

One's Caeldori, mirroring her father's expression as she moves to try and help me back up. The other's the Roseanne soldier from a long while ago, Gwen. She's yucking it up non stop, doubled over at my misfortune. If I wasn't being held onto I'd strangle her with my bare hands. Finally, Percy. One hand rubbing his neck as he laughs nervously, the other clutching a healing rod.

"I thought you said you were going to sleep in your cot…" I hear Caeldori ask in resignation. Did I say that? I probably did, then realized I wouldn't have time to do that and finish all the work my new 'Boss' dumped on me. She takes me back over to my desk, setting my chair straight and helping me back down into it.

Gwen's still laughing like a madwoman, much to my dismay. Percy's backing away from her slowly, I think he can tell I'm having murderous thoughts just by how my face feels like it's twisting. Meanwhile I take a look at my desk. Three candles, all burned to the end of their wick. A pot of ink that's almost been completely used up, with a feather resting in it calmly. The papers are divided into two stacks now, if I recall the larger one is what's been finished. Still so much left to do…

"Anyway, Captain." I hear Caeldori say as Subaki's head disappears back behind the cloth. My eyes aim back at our two guests, and the new table in the corner of the room. When did that get there? "I brought these two as soon as they were free, as you requested."

"Eh?" I ask the space around me, prompting my girl to sigh. Gwen finally stops laughing, though she isn't losing that smug smile of hers. That's when the gears in my head start working again, and I recall the last request I gave Caeldori before I blanked out. "Riiiiiiight, now I remember."

I beckon the two closer, then point at the space in front of my table. They both move up and shift into a stance resembling attention, looking at me in expectation. After that I pull the top paper from my completed pile and place it in the middle, pointing at it. Both look down, seeing that it's a roster with their names hastily written down.

"Er… Miss Severa? What's this?" Percy asks, grabbing the thing and bringing it up for a closer look as he adjusts his glasses.

"The company command roster. You both work for me now." I inform them, before looking over my shoulder. "You did get Blanche to sign that other sheet, right?"

Caeldori nods, slipping the order out and handing it over to me. I look it over and see the Cleric's fresh signature on it. I cough once into a fist, before reading the statement scrawled at the top to my new peons. "By order of Blanche de Navarre, Brigadier of Roseanne, Priestess of the Church of Valm, blah blah blah blah…" I skip over the rest of the filler and just get to the point. "...The transfer of Corporal Gwendolyn Mire and Junior Priest Percival LeRoux has been approved. Both are to report to the commander of the One-hundred and Eighth Independent Light Militia Company. As so it is decreed." I then offer it to the two. This time Gwen's the one to take it in hand.

"From today onwards, you both take your marching orders from me and my Lieutenant." I jut my thumb over to Caeldori as she stands at my flank, watching Gwen's smirk maintain as she receives the news. Percy just keeps staring at the roster, frozen in shock. "No one else. Not any of the other Ylissean officers. Not any of the Majors or Colonels from Roseanne. Only us, the Brigadier and Commander Volkner."

Percy remains rigid still, so I stand up a bit and snap my fingers in his face. The boy gasps, but finally gets a hold of himself. Handing the paper back to Caeldori and clutching his heal staff close. "You're both my new staff officers." I sit myself back down, bouncing my eyes between the two before settling on the kid. "Percy, you're acting surgeon. All the new priests and clerics who join up, you organize them."

The spectacle wearing boy bobs his head up and down, getting the message. My eyes then shift over to Gwen, narrowing slightly. "You're the company Sergeant Major. You help me drill everyone who transfers here, and you enforce the rules. Anyone does anything stupid, feel free to break something that doesn't take them off the battlefield. Got it?"

"Crystal." She answers gleefully, like I just gave her the keys to a candy store.

"Good, questions?" I ask, and my new priest tentatively lifts his hand.

"When do we start?"

"Now." I grab the unfinished paperwork to my side and divide it into halves, one being personnel files and the other being medical requisition forms. Then slide both to their new owner, respectively. "Fill these out by quarter set today, hand them off to Lieutenant Takeda." I again gesture to Caeldori, who clicks her heels next to me. "Next question."

Gwen this time, rubbing her hands together as her eyes gleam. "So, when do our new ranks kick in. And the pay bonus! We do get a pay bonus, right?"

Interesting priorities, I guess. My eyes roll out of reflex. "Your paygrades'll be fixed by the next period. I'm not the army's comptroller, so bug him if something goes wrong." I answer, then move to the next point. "Your new ranks kick in now. Both of you can start moving your stuff into the tent across from this one."

"I've already requisitioned you both new uniforms, which are in said tent. Along with work tables, supplies and cots." Caeldori chirped. I know I didn't ask her to do any of that, but I'm glad she did it anyway.

Grunting in approval, I move on. "Last question, you both have work to do."

Percy speaks up again, and finally asks the question we've all been waiting for. "Um… not to sound ungrateful Miss Severa-" He gulps once more, shifting his feet with stress. "-a-and I'm not ungrateful, really! This is an amazing opportunity and I can't thank you enou-"

"Get to the point before I throw you out." I growl. He shuts up really fast, but Gwen picks it up for him.

"Why us, Cap?" She asks, scratching the side of her head. "Why'd you pick a hayseed and a runt to help you run a military outfit?"

To answer that, I pull out even more papers strapped together as a book. Because Morgan basically dumped a library onto me to drown in. This one's a service record for the older troops outside of the militia. I flip through, landing first on Gwen's. "Your looks are deceiving, Gwen." I explain, looking at her medical chart. "I've seen castles survive less damage then what's on this list. And you've only been serving for five years."

"Folks like gettin' rough 'round here, what can I say?" She shrugs as she lifts both arms, still holding that smug expression.

"And I need someone who can handle that. Someone who can put the fear of Naga into anyone I need them to, and not get broken in the process." Turn a few pages, land on Percy, and read it off for him. "You've only been a Priest for half a year, and you've already done fifteen surgeries." I grimace as I read the two newest names on the boy's list, the pain in my chest renewing at the picture. "...Including Sir Gerome and Lady Cynthia. No one's died under your care, once. Even when they've had no business in living."

I snap the book shut, then toss it back under the table. Push myself up standing, and give them both one last look. "If this is going to work. If we're going to _win._ I'm gonna need to take a lot of gambles. This is the first one. Neither of you have much experience, but we're short on veterans. Both of you have something exceptional, and I'm going to exploit it because no one else will. Understood?"

Both of them salute over to me as an answer. Now it's my turn to smile at them. "Great. Now get out of my face, and get to work."


	20. C-16: The Only Easy Day

While I was asleep the night before, with the planning of a certain redheaded pegasus knight and the assistance of the army's assorted mages, an assembly hall had been erected near the center of the tent village that was now the army's forward encampment. Or 'cantonment', I guess. The difference in vocabulary here in Roseanne made my head spin.

Either way, I found myself sitting in a wooden building being held together by a few well placed hexes. Caeldori had proposed the idea to Virion himself before I arrived. The wood itself had been worked on by a group of refugees from the Risen razed town I had passed through, cut down into planks and beams. But instead of being held together by nails and mortar, a stasis field surrounded the walls. Sort of like an invisible film that was keeping everything intact. _It's supposed_ to keep the building together for a week. But I keep expecting everything to fall apart and bury me alive.

Doesn't help that I can feel the hex reverberating around me. Magical sensitivity was one of the traits I inherited paternally, if anything. Everyone else seems ignorant to the shaking, they can't see the small waves pulsating next to the wood. They don't need to resist the pressure against their ears.

Or maybe that's just coming from the din of the assembly itself. Every officer with a command is here. From smaller company Captains like myself, to Majors in charge of full battalions, to the few Colonels heading the present regiments. I feel like a small fish in a big pond, my black and white Nohrian mercenary gear makes me stick out in the sea of Roseannean lavender and the assorted splotches of Ylissean blue.

Note to self; find a tailor, get a new outfit. Maybe dye the sleeves on this one blue in the meantime.

Why are we here? Scouting reports. The Valentians have already started massing in the same forest Beril's scouts were decimated in. At least a few thousand of them had already arrived, but as of now we outnumbered them. Half the officers, myself among them, were trying to lobby for a preemptive strike. Taking out a chunk of the enemy's forces before the main body arrived would be very, very useful.

Problem is, it also seems like it's a trap.

'Always assume your enemy is smarter than you are.' A lesson my father taught me, in both worlds. Maddox looked like a brute, and spoke like one too. But he wasn't an idiot by any standards. He would've learned from what happened to the scouting party I was with. Sending another piece of his forces forwards was just asking for more problems to fall onto his head. But playing the fool's an easy way to trick your opponent in a lot of things, war included.

But it still felt so damn tempting. We could just reach out and end the battle before it even begins. Wipe out a chunk of the invading army, maybe I could hunt down the people who almost killed Cynthia and Gerome. Putting a sword through them would be nice. Plus maybe I could do the same to Beril too…

"You're giving off a rather unnerving smile." A voice to my right chimed I turned to see a brown haired, blue armored cavalier watching me with amused caution. Blue eyes searched over my expression, as if he was playing a guessing game. "The Captain _did_ warn me about you having that look. Feeling a bit stabby?"

My 'stabby' smile drops as it's replaced by my usual glowering grimace. "Stow it, Rudy." I eek out, looking back to the front as a Ylissean officer pleads the case for having Morgan's forces attack first. Something about less risk due to better training, which totally didn't sound condescending at all. Except it did, even if it _was_ true. I could see every one of the local soldiers burning holes into the back of his head with their gaze.

"Yes ma'am, Miss Takeda ma'am." The man answered in kind with a sarcastic mirth, clearly trying to poke at me by using my married name. Subaki had been given command of a cavalry company, due to his experience with horses both winged and not. And just like me, he was also given an Lieutenant to help. This annoying fop by the name of Rudolf. He fancies himself something of a comedian, It's the only reason why he teases me like this.

"Remind me again why you're sitting here? Don't have anyone else to torture?" I mutter out, not wanting to cause a scene with the people who were sitting in front of us. I'd chosen the rear of the whole lineup so I could try and get some solitude. Maybe avoid a headache for one stinking day. But as usual, it seems like fate enjoys using me as it's eternal punching bag. Ugh….

"I thought you needed company!" Rudy explained, before his jovial nature dropped down an octave." ..Plus, this was the only chair left." He admitted, shrugging his shoulders before his grin returned. "Besides! I thought you'd like to see a familiar face!"

"Your brother's a familiar face, Rudy. You're a familiar pain in the arse." I counter, just as one of Roseanne's mages steps up and begins hurling insults at the Ylissean. My intrepid countryman had put his foot in his mouth even more. Something about Roseanne's militia being unable to properly 'move into combat without being forced to withdraw.' I can see Morgan palming her face from here. Preferring to avoid whatever catastrophe was about to unfold in front of me, I turn back to face my unwelcome company. "I still can't believe you're even here. I thought you were an apothecary."

"I am!" He confirms before carrying on with his explanation in defiance to the full on yelling match that was happening at the head of the building. "But a new regiment got raised in my town, and I thought-." He snaps his fingers. "-'Hey, Rudy. This might be your only chance to see the world! Be a hero, just like your big bro!' So I signed up. And next thing I know, we got shipped here."

I groan internally. "Fine. Just, don't expect me to babysit you. And don't give Subaki any trouble." I finish, just as I hear a crash of thunder boom out. My head whips about, looking in it's direction.

Turns out Morgan decided to blow the whistle on the whole affair. By firing a blast of magic right into the ceiling. Charred fibers of wood fell down onto the heads of both parties in question, staring up at the angered commander with fear before they scurried back to their seats. I sat myself down, pinching the bridge of my nose and exhaling.

Rudy whistles audibly, cackling at the sight. "Commander Volkner's got a temper…" He comments, stating the obvious.

"She got it from our mother." I manage to say, mentally preparing myself for a long day.

* * *

" **YOU LAZY SHITHEADS! STRIKE FASTER, BEFORE I BREAK MY PIKE OFF IN ALL OF YER ASSES!"**

I sit on the sidelines of the training field, silently watching a platoon of the new recruits go through their drills in silence. At first I was wary about letting Gwen take the reigns, but she's actually taking this job more seriously than I expected. The girl is a natural drill sergeant, able to project her voice over a crowd and assert herself as the dominant figure. Her new look also helps, clearly standing out from the typical purple soldier's uniform everyone else wore.

She's going through the motions I told her to do. Testing the waters, trying to see what they're all capable of. Mostly just trying to see if they can take basic orders. They'd started long before I returned from the meeting, and the fact that they were still occupied gave me plenty of time to think.

Blanche and Morgan both decided against pressing an attack. Too many variables to worry about; the trees were perfect to cause an ambush, the odd nature of the situation, the fact that most of our troops were still green recruits. It wasn't a safe move to attack, even if it meant missing a big opportunity. No, we were gonna hold here and fortify. Set up trenches, palisades and minefields. Oh my, oh my.

Still, my mind wandered as I thought about the situation as a whole. The Risen coming back was gnawing away at the back of my brain. Morgan locked herself up into her command tent as soon as the meeting was over, raring to go at the mask. No one was allowed in or out except Virion, Cherche and the Brigadier. She even refused to let me inside, of all people! Sniveling little weasel.

Didn't help that I'm starting to feel really off. I'd noticed it more and the longer we were back home, but my head keeps feeling like it's in a vice. I keep getting more irritated too, something in my head is just… _angry_. Constantly, endlessly angry. And it's getting worse. My dreams were getting more vivid, and sometimes, I swear I can hear something strange. Like a muffled growl getting louder and louder.

Am I finally losing it? Is this how Owain feels literally all the time? Am I gonna start busting into random performances and going on about my fell hand? Gods, I hope not. Rather an archer shoot me now than let that become me.

Need to focus. Bring myself back into the present, these are problems I can fix when I win this war.

I shoot a whistle over to Gwen, the green haired harpy was currently putting the fear of death into one of the recruits as they missed a strike on their practice target. She barks off a chain of threats and insults, some advice laced in between before she walks her way over to me and shoots off a pleased grin. "Afternoon, Cap. How'd the fancy pants meetin' go?"

"Stupid and a waste of my time." I answer in kind, looking behind her to see her previous target running off to rejoin the group as they ran around the practice field. No one seemed to be falling behind, they could all keep pace in full kit. Says nothing about their endurance though. "Nothing happened that'll matter to you. How's the Company?"

"Well they ain't any Chon'sin Swordmasters, that's fer sure." She informs with a snort, moving to stand to my side and remove a toothpick from her sleeve. Bit gross, but I guess she has to keep them somewhere. "Most of'em ain't ever held anything 'cept a pitchfork or a broom. They can run, and they can listen. Well, almost all of'em can listen."

"Almost?" I ask with an edge in my voice. I'd rather not have to deal with someone not doing as I say in the middle of a battle.

She picks at her teeth with the wooden instrument, before pointing at the boy at the very head of the group. Blonde hair, blue eyes, well built. Handsome, actually. I'd imagine he had plenty of suitors when he was back home. "That feller there thinks he's too good to be told what tuh do. Apparently his Dad is the Mayor of that lil'town we blew through that got uh… y'know, crispy fried?"

"And he joined up?" I ask, not expecting any of the refugees to have signed on to get thrown into another death pit.

She grunts, dropping her hand to her side. "Lotta folks from Genieve did, believe it or not. We gave'em the option to stay here, join up, or try and hoof it back to Roseanne proper. Lot of the women left with their kids, but a bunch signed on."

"Didn't know we even had the supplies to give them uniforms, let alone weapons." I grumble.

Gwen shrugs. "I look like some sorta stock-keep, Cap? I just stab the bad guys."

"And terrorize people." I add.

"Naw, that ain't my job. That's just a perk." She half-jokes. "...Speakin' of, ma'am. I wanted tuh tell ya… thanks."

"For?"

"Doin' this. Makin' me yer Sarn't Major." Gwen clarified, gesturing at her new get-up. A lavender steel chestplate and shoulderpads encasing her. New helmet with a few flowery designs along the hem of the armor. Plus a wide, cast-iron shield and new wraps for her arms. "I just…" She took in a breath. "-Gods, this is harder than I thought it'd be."

"Being grateful that foreign to you Gwen?" I jab playfully, but I'm answered by a gruff huff.

"Yeah, it honestly is." She answers in kind. "...My folks died when Walhart came and started burnin' things down. Didn't have no one to take me in, so I went to the Capitol. Was a street kid for a while. Only way I could eat was either stealin' from folks or doin' odd jobs. After his Duke-ly-ness came back, he started rebuildin'. So when the Army took volunteers, I signed up."

I nod, understanding all too well what it's like to lose your parents in war. "I know how it feels. My 'folks' died in the war too."

Another huff, but she keeps moving. "M'point is, I didn't think I was ever gonna be nothin' more than a normal soldier fer the rest of my life." She explained. "Sure as hell never expected'em to make me a Corporal, I guess that was b'cause I was the only person in my platoon who could read n'write. Then a few years later, you come along and now, well, I'm as high as I'm allowed to get."

It hit me then, how this was probably the furthest this girl was ever going to get in her career. She was a street rat war orphan with no education, no noble lineage and no qualifications. They'd never make her an officer, being a Sergeant was probably the best job she could've ever dreamed of.

"Gwen, can I ask you a question?" I start, continuing on before I can even let her approve or deny my request. "Why're you here? As in, why're you a soldier? You could've become a mercenary, or a bodyguard, or a thief. Hell, good thieves make good money."

"And bad thieves get th'axe." Gwen muses, chuckling darkly as she shook her head. "I just wanna make sure folks don't get dealt the same hand I did. There was a lotta us loner kids after Walhart came." She shrugs again, surprising me with how casually blunt she relays the subject matter. "Most of us didn't last. Either starved, got sick, got killed, or whatever."

"Huh." Is my only answer. Not gonna lie, didn't expect a noble reason from the lady who was willing to let me drown in a river just because I nearly up-chucked on her footwear.

I think she can tell that, smiling at me in amusement. "Don't get me wrong, Cap. The pay's a real nice incentive too. Oh, and th'fact that I get to kick some Valmese keister."

"Eye on the prize, Gwen." I mull this new information about my subordinate over, all the while continuing the conversation. "Anyway, the Mayor's brat?"

"The Mayor's brat." Gwen parroted. "He don't like bein' told what to do. Thinks he's more qualified tuh bein' in charge than me or you." The soldier folded her arms over her chest, narrowing her eyes at the subject of the conversation. "Boy's gonna get people killed with that attitude."

"Agreed. You have a plan?"

She doesn't answer for a moment, visually racking her mind for an answer. "Well the standard punishment for insubordination's…"

"We're not whipping him." I state with absolution, realizing where she's going with that.

"It ain't that bad." She levies. "You stop feelin' it after the first fifty."

Can't say I've ever been flogged, but I still don't believe that at all. "Really? Speaking from experience?"

Another shrug. "I might've not liked my first Captain that much. Might've skipped a few trainin's. Possibily could've called him 'know nothin' cousin fucker' to his face."

Nice to see I have such a great standard to uphold then. Roseanne's military is keeping up the standard of being draconian as hell. "Language, dear."

Gwen balks, her shoulders slouching and her eyes giving me a stare that just transmits disbelief. "What? We're adults, ain't we?"

"Don't care. So what's the alternative?"

She thinks again, scratching her cheek as we both follow the running troops with our gaze. "It's still early. He might grow outta this, get his head right." She offers.

"You wouldn't be bringing it up if you had faith in that." I answer back.

"Suppose I wouldn't. But I try to be hopeful sometimes." Our soldiers round the bend for yet another lap, their equipment and weapons clunking together loudly. They're keeping a decent pace, there's a few of them that are clearly running ahead of the others. It's easy to tell they've never run around in outfits this heavy before.

That's when an idea pops into my head. None of these people know what it's like to be in a real battle. I'm sure a few of'em have been in a tavern brawl, or a fist fight. But a full blown sword dance is something completely new to them. They don't know what to expect at all, most of these guys were probably still kids during Walhart's run.

"I know that look. That's the look people get when they's plannin' somethin'." Gwen leans forwards, looking at me expectantly.

"Call for reprieve. Tell them to reform here in half an hour." I order. "And dig Percy out of the medical bay, we might need him."

"Uh… I thought we said we _wasn't_ whippin' him." The lancer warily states, eyes shifting nervously. Guess she isn't as onboard with her proposal as I thought.

I chuckle cryptically, standing up and slapping her on the back. "You'll see, Gwen. Just do as I say."

In times like these, a demonstration is in order.

* * *

An hour later, Percy returns with Caeldori in two. The four of us sit at the edge once more as the recruits have moved onto spars. A little over eighty men and women, battling one another in pairs. Swinging around practice lances as they see fit, trying to land blows on one another. Most of them making utter fools of themselves.

One boy at the front has a bit of promise, but is far too stiff. Whenever he's attacked, he stiffens and ends up with a wooden blade whopping him in the gut. Doesn't know how to block for his life.

Another pair of men, older than I am, keep thrusting at one another. They're both rather muscular, actually. Look like farmers, and they fight like some too. Every motion made with as spear looks like they're trying to use it like a pitchfork.

Then there's one girl who's about Caeldori's age, tripping over herself each time she even tries to move an inch. She can't even take a step without stumbling. Here I thought Cynthia was hopeless, this takes the cake.

Still, my attention is focused on a singular fellow. The man from Geneve that Gwen told me about before, Vincent. He's in the middle of the group, one of the few people who seems to actually know what he's doing. Not surprising, most lesser nobles tend to join the military for honor and glory. Most also tend to get themselves killed in the process. But, it usually means they've got combat training, which means he's got a leg up on most.

He's fought fifteen different people, and the longest I've seen one last in two minutes. The victories are easily going to his head.

"I don't like him." Caledori comments, matching my narrowed eyed gaze at the boy as he laughs at another defeated opponent. Swiped the legs right from under them, then smacked them in the gut with the spear's shaft for extra humiliation.

"No one likes him. The rest of his platoon can't stand him." Percy follows up, drumming his hands on his staff as it rests on his lap. "He's a bully."

"He's a problem." Gwen affirms once more. "Cap, you said you have a plan."

"I do, I do." I assure, watching him harass another person into being his latest punching bag. Need to get enough wind under his sails for this to work.

"I could just speak to him. I'm sure being reprimanded by a staff officer would mean something." Caeldori offers.

Percy shook his head, sighing somberly. "People like that don't stop when they're told not to. They just do it quieter." He grumbles, likely thinking back to his past. My heart pangs at the thought, looking at the Priest soberly. Percy _is_ a bit thin, plus with the glasses… Naga's sake he must've been terrorized as a child.

My hands ball up into fists as the blowhard knocks another man to the ground. I can hear myself growling like an angry bear as I stand, stalking myself forwards. Caeldori calls out behind me, but I can't make it out. My target's the only thing I'm focusing on.

"Are you all so easily bested!?" He boasts, hoisting his practice spear high and looking around him. "Lackies, all of you! I'll be the only one to last through the first battle."

His cheering stops when his eyes finally fall onto me, but his insufferable smile remains on his face. He bowls grandly, clearly taking the piss out of the whole situation as I stand at his front. "Ah, Captain! Come to grace the best soldier in the Company?"

"There's more to soldiering than beating the crap out of your comrades, jackass!" One of the men hollers, flashing a crude gesture at Vincent. Not that he cares, he just laughs it off and plants the shaft of the spear into the ground.

"Such sore losers. Unable to accept defeat at the hands of their betters." He's addressing the crowd again, but the words sink in deep with me.

I've had to deal with so many silver-spoon gentiles in my life. People who never had to work for anything, and were given it all. Even back in _my_ time they existed, able to flee from the Risen while simple townsfolk were left to fend for themselves. Bought a nice roomy apartment in Ylisstol while refugees were packed like animals in the tenement slums. Never shared anything, never helped anyone.

I was born well off, but at least I made something of it. Time to teach this scumbag how a real noble fights.

" **Back away! Twenty meters, all of you!"** I command, looking over my shoulder to see everyone comply. A circle is formed haphazardly, with everyone watching me confront this sod.

"My dear commander, do you mean to applaud me for my efforts publically?" Vincent chides, spurring my temper even further. "I'm honored!"

"You said you're the best soldier in the Company." I manage out, squaring myself straight. "Let's test that."

His Cheshire grin only spreads, readying his spear and leveling it at me. "A duel, then? Alright. Where's your weapon?"

"You think I need one?" I ask, insulted at the idea. I can snap this punk in two with my bare hands. I **will** snap him in two.

"Oof, the foreigner has quite the confidence! But last I heard you Ylissean types weren't much for fighting regardless." He tutted swaying the tip of his lance in the place of a shaking head. "Didn't your last Exalt splatter herself on rocks because your Army was so incompetent?"

That's when my brain finally shuts off. Any reservations I had were blown apart with that insult. Silently I take up a fighting stance, putting pressure on my back foot and bringing my fists up. The world vanishes except for what's in front of me. All excess sound disappears. My thoughts sharpen.

'Kill him slowly.' The only words I hear other than him, in my own twisted voice.

"Maybe if I win this, they'll give me my own command! So I won't have to take orders from two foreigners and a knuckle-dragging troglodyte of a Sergeant Major." The boy boasts as he prepares himself, locking the spear under his arm. My eyes focus on the tip as it steadies.

Then, he charges.

The blade is aimed low, clearly going for my stomach.

I count down the seconds as he comes. Three, two…

One.

Sidestep to the right.

Grab the shaft, right below the practice blade.

Spin right, keep my hold firm. I see him tumble over as he loses his own handle.

Walk over and smash the shaft against the side of his head. He falls to his side.

Lift the weapon up, bring it down again. I hollow, blunt smack rings as the wood contacts the skin.

Strike down once more, but he grabs the spear. I reward him by sending my iron toe'd boot right into his chest. He collapses, clutching at his heart as he gasps for a new breath of air. Follow it up with another, harder kick. As he flops onto his back, I chuck the weapon down onto his stomach.

I pace back a few steps, then take up my original position. Feet fixed, shoulders square, fists raised.

" **Up."** I hear myself order. Much to my pleasure, he complies. Has to use the spear to do it, but he gets there. He readies himself once more, aiming the blade at my chest this time. But he doesn't charge. One look at his eyes betrays why. His pupils are dilated, shaking in his blue irises as they stare back at me. His arms are shaking now, his breathing seems off pace.

He's scared of me. And I'm relishing every moment of it.

" **Well?"** The question is said in my voice, but it feels like something else is saying it. Vincent winces at the call, but doesn't come forwards. Merely standing there like a terrified animal. A cockroach waiting for me squash it.

It'd be rude to keep him waiting for long.

I lunge forwards, ducking low as he weakly thrusts at my form. One of my hands grabs his arm, the other grabs his neck. A split second later he's being flipped over my and driven deep into the dirt. A sound registers in my ear, something like a scream before he flops into a pile of person.

The spear's on the ground next to him as he groans in pain. Weakly the broken boy tries to grab at it. Inching closer and closer. It's almost adorable.

I pace over to him, then grind my boot against his hand right as he's about to reach the shaft. Another scream, followed by the telltale sound of cracking fingers.

Oops.

I bend over and grab the spear, holding it at my side as I make sure to step in his line of sight. Then I lift the weapon up and smash it against my knee, driving it in two before throwing the pieces onto the ground.

With that final act, the rest of the world comes back.

First the smell. The field's dirt mixed with wafting into my nostrils. Then the sound of the bystanders clamoring around me. A few cheers were being raised among the crowd, glad to see the upstart knocked off of his pedestal. Feeling returned after that, my gloves chafed against my skin. Taste next, blood. Bit the inside of my cheek and didn't notice it.

Then sight comes. Most of the company seem rather pleased with the results of the impromptu duel, clapping and hollering happily. Each of the people whom he'd assaulted before were among them, glad that the terror was over. But peppered in between them were a few stares that matched Vincent in his final moments.

Fear. Fear of me. Fear that they'd be next if they fell out of line.

I looked over to my three compatriots and saw they too look at me oddly. Gwen's taken completely aback, her mouth frozen in a small 'O'. Caeldori's utterly mortified, staring at me as if I'd just murdered the boy. Percy's can't even look, his eyes were boring into the ground as he tried to find an escape.

I mutter curses under my breath. It happened again, just like in the main hall at the castle. I lost control and flew off the handle. It's not as bad, but… ugh. No, no. Damage control.

"LeRoux. Get over here and start treating him." I call. Percy shuffles out, still avoiding me as he crouches down and gets to work checking the wounded's condition. I kneel down next to him, giving him a solid minute before I speak again. "How bad?"

"His hand's broken in four places." He answers meekly. "Bruising along his ribs. He'll be out for a few days."

"Can you help him?" I ask, cursing myself. Of course he can fix him, even without the stave it would be easy.

"I can." I confirms. As I go to stand, his hand flies out and grabs my arm. "This never happens again." He demands in a steely voice, any timidness from before non-existent. "If it does, I quit. Got it?"

"It won't." I promise sincerely, letting him keep his grip on me. "I don't plan to make this a regular thing."

"...I'll take your word for it." Percy answers softly, before standing up and waving for Caeldori and Gwen to come over. The two girls lift up Percy's patient, while the priest himself walks alongside them and begins chanting a few incantations.

As they leave, the rest of the company's still there. Staring at me expectantly, waiting for my next word. Damn it all, this wasn't what was supposed to happen. I was just supposed to knock him down a few times, not send him to the infirmary.

"Listen up." I start, the voices quieting down as they all listen to my speak. "I don't care who you are, where you're from, or what you did before this." I point into the group, shifting my perspective as I speak. "From here on out, you're all together. No one is better than anyone else." I drop my hand. "In a War, the person trying to stab you doesn't give a toss about your life story. And neither do I. Got it?"

All of them answer affirmatively in something resembling unison, a loud 'Yes, Captain!' filling the air around me.

"I'm going to get you all through this." I promise again, just as truthfully as I was to Percy.

"Even if I need to break you apart, and rebuild you first."

* * *

 _ **A/N: Finally settled with College for the semester. Can focus on getting writing done for my active stories! *Confetti***_

 _ **Sometimes I worry that I may be writing Sev as a bit too violent, but it is leading into something. Soon. Ish. Probably.**_

 _ **Review responses!**_

 _ **Golden Cardinal: Never get tired of reading reviews, and I'm glad you've taken a liking to the stories. In truth the lack of alternate tales is what drove me to start this series. We've seen Awakening and Fates retold so many times, but there's so much after those stories that we can write about as well. Future's End is a great example to that, such a good follow up to Invisible Ties.**_

 _ **Zoran Prowler: Always happy to entertain. I'll admit I feel like my physical descriptions can be lacking at times, but I do pride myself on dialogue. Suppose I'm a better script-writer than a story writer eh?**_

 ** _Thanks for tuning in guys. With the new schedual, I'm writing chapters alternating between this and The Last Exalt. So expect a follow up to this in two weeks at the minimum. Take care and happy holidays! Don't eat the yellow snow, eh?_**


	21. C-17: I Forgot to Remember to Forget

That night I'm sitting outside the medical tent, head lolled back as I look up towards the starlit sky. A few people find they way in and out through the flaps, paying me no mind as they go about their business. A few of the soldiers try to salute me, and I just weakly return it with a nod before I go back to stargazing.

Percy told me to wait out here until everything was settled. This marks the second time I'm sitting outside of a clinic, waiting for him to do something. Starting to become a bit of a trend. I'd find it funny if it wasn't for the circumstances.

I went too far. Everything in my mind keeps telling me the same thing, that I went too damn far.

I can't even remember any of it! One moment he's running his mouth about Emmeryn's death, the next he's on the ground in front of me and I'm holding a broken spear. He was battered and bruised, bleeding from so many new cuts. And his _hand_ , it looked like someone fed it into a cotton gin. Fingers shouldn't bend like that!

Caeldori, oh Gods. She never seemed so shellshocked before in her life. I haven't even been able to talk to her since we left the training grounds.

What… is _wrong_ with me? What's going on? This crap keeps happening, over and over again. Just these surges of violence. I haven't felt this way since… since… before we left our timeline. In our last years there, Lucina told me I nearly went off the rails. Drawing weapons on people, attacking anyone who slighted me or even looked the wrong way my friends.

I need to fix it. I need to find out why my head's so messed up and fix it before I do something really bad.

The tent flap pushes open once more, and Percy shuffles next to me. My new surgeon sits himself next to me, setting his staff between his legs and clutching it so it kept upright. His eyes rest on me for a moment, the pupils within almost shaking with uncertainty before he sighs and rests his head back.

"He'll be out of his bed tomorrow morning." Percy informs me, pressing his glasses back up his nose. "Light duties for the coming week. I'm gonna exempt him from training drills, and I'll run him through daily check-ups to make sure he stays on the mend."

"Keep me in the loop." I answer, going back to look at the twinkling lights dancing above us. That old story of stars being the past looking down on those they left behind is ringing in my ears. Wonder how my forefathers are judging me now.

"...I need to say something, b-before we continue." Percy managed out, both his hands gripping his staff tightly. Naga's sake I think I can see a few veins popping through the felt on his gloves, and his voice is shaking more than Anna's store cart on a bumpy road.

I turn to face him, quirking a brow as a signal for him to continue. The boy breaths in and out twice, his hands fiddling with the shaft of the staff before trying to rest himself. "Get on with it, Percy." I order, my face turning into an unamused glare.

"J-just, give me a moment!" Percy answers sharply, edging a bit further away from me on the grass. "Y-you're a scary lady, alright!? I don't wanna get smacked!"

"I'll smack you if you don't **get on with it."** I threaten, before biting myself back. He tries to scurry away even further, but I reach over and grab his shoulder. I'm trying to be gentle, but he yelps like his arm's getting torn off. "Wait."

He does as I say, stiffly. The Priest is clearly fighting every fiber in his being to keep himself from sprinting away, but he manages to do so. With my usual sigh, I release my grip and rest both my hands in my lap.

"I'm sorry." I start. "I'm sorry that I hurt one of our people. I'm sorry that I put more work on you. I'm sorry that I forced you into this position, when you're obviously uncomfortable with being around me. And I swear, it will _never_ happen again."

Percy absorbs my words, weighing the odds in his brain. Probably trying to tell if I'm being sincere or not. I am, Naga knows I am. I don't want to be some kind of cold ice queen to everyone anymore, not after everything that's happened. Snarky and sarcastic? Sure, I'm always happy to rib people. But not unfair, not cruel.

Thankfully he sees that, and brings himself to sit next to me again. He exhales strongly and clutches his chest, and I giggle softly. He _really_ held his breath that entire time? Jeez, kid. At least have a little bit of a spine.

The boy shoots a weak glare at me, but my giggles just escalate into full blown laughter. Percy's shoulders sag in defeat, a sad frown on his face as I yuck it up. "Are you done?" He asks.

I wipe a tear from my eye, nodding. "So, you were saying?"

"I was _going_ to rattle off this speech I had prepared in my head, but I didn't expect you to aquesse without any prodding." Percy mutters bitterly. I almost feel bad about stealing his big moment from him.

"Aren't you glad I did? If I didn't, it'd mean I thought what I did was perfectly fine. And that isn't the kinda person _I'd_ wanna be around." I explain to him, and he nods along in agreement.

"Suppose it worked out then." He agrees, humming to himself before snapping his fingers. "Can we talk about something else then? The last time we tried we were interrupted.

I smile at the kid, nudging him with my shoulder. "Sure. Lay it on me."

"I... I wanted to ask you about the Ylissean League again." He explains. Riiiight, the last time we tried to have this conversation, Blanche came and gave me that little 'talk'. Guess that's two ladies in the world he's rather terrified of.

"Bit of a random topic, eh kid?" I prod.

"I know it seems random but-" He continues after another breath. "You were with the heroes who saved the entire continent from Walhart! Lord Virion, Empress Say'ri, _Chrom of Ylisse!?_ They're all legends here!"

"Virion's a legend…?" I ask in disbelief. That cravat wearing, flanderizing, over dramatic nincompoop is a _legend?_ In the land of Tiki for crying out loud?!

"The Duke and Duchess rebuilt the country in seven years, Miss Severa!" Percy exclaims joyously. "Even when everyone wanted him gone! My own parents were part of the mob that tried to run him out when he returned! But he did care. He just kept working, even when we all hated him."

"Reminds me of a story about someone." I think back to what Lucina said about her late Aunt. Emmeryn had gone through the same pains, both in this timeline and mine. Lucina looked up to that woman's own legend during the later days of her rule. Seems like all of House Lowell's leaders were something to aspire too.

"It's just, you knew them. You fought alongside them, right?" He keeps going. "The stories I've heard makes them all to be special characters, but they're all so larger than life."

Bold of him to assume that. "Percy, you know I could've just been a grunt, right? I could've never spoken a word to the Exalt or the Empress."

"If you were, then why'd Commander Volker put you in a position of authority so fast?" He reasons. "Why's the Duke so familiar with you? And how could a normal grunt be so good in a fight?"

Huh. The little twerp actually has a really good noggin behind those specs. Pretty solid deductive skills.

"OK. I'll tell you what I know, if you answer one last question." He nods his head up and down quickly, so fast I'm worried it'll fly off his neck. "Why in the heck are ya asking me now?"

Percy gulps, his mouth moving as he tries to find the words. Though it really comes out as an unintelligible mess. I let him tire himself out before he realizes that neither of us can understand what he's saying. Then, he tries again.

"I wanna get to know you better, Miss Severa." He admits. "We've only spoken once or twice. And well, now I work for you. The only things I _do_ know about you are that you're very scary and **very** angry!"

"Has anyone ever told you that you need to work on your delivery." I say, less of a question and more of a blunt faced observation.

"Why the heck do you think I heal people instead of deliver sermons?" He answers smugly, grinning as he gives me a nudge. "Come on, stop stalling! Let's talk about the war!"

"Are you…" For pete's sake, he really isn't going to let this go. "Fine, fine. Where do you wanna start?"

He rubs his chin for a moment, before snapping again. I guess that's a tick for him whenever he thinks of an idea. "Start from the start! When the League landed in Valm!"

"Wasn't there, squirt." I inform, much to his dismay. "Joined up with them a good while after they made landfall."

"But I thought you were Ylissean!" Percy protests, pouting as he loses a chance to find out the initial battle.

I chuckle at his misfortune, rolling my shoulders before relaxing back against the tent. "I am, but I was doing some mercenary work in Brisbonne." I'm gonna need to lie a decent bit in this story, but I can at least start off with the truth.

"So when did you join up with the League?" He asks, trying to find a point where I can start telling him about the conflict first hand. Just like the rest of my life, just like what I told Subaki, Morgan and Camilla, it's complicated. But I can probably spin the story like it was some kind of battle.

I sigh, and think back to the fortress. Back to the town I couldn't protect.

* * *

Brisbonne wasn't much, but it was certainly quaint.

The country's on a peninsula at the south eastern edge of Valm itself. Most of the land's dotted with fishing villages, farms, small shops and rolling hills. The only big city to speak of was the Capitol, which I never even went to. Only heard stories about it from townspeople and traders who came to and fro along the roadways.

When I first showed up as I feel from the portal, I was terrified. We'd gone through the eye and I was all alone, in the middle of a land and time I didn't know anything about. Naga said we would all land somewhere in Ylisse, but even with everything _not_ on fire it didn't take me long to realize this wasn't home. The dialect was different, for one. None of the landmarks seemed familiar at all, even counting the destroyed state we left Ylisse in. Plus I was able to walk from coast to coast in a few days flat.

That's when I happened upon Hobart, the town that I'd set up shop in for the next year of my life. Hobart did remind me of the home I spent my childhood in. It was an old, countryside manor that was surrounded by fields. The ground was level and the soil was soft. Room for Mother to let her pegasus roam and graze, a sanctum for Father to avoid the endless work of Ylisstol. Funnily enough, we ended up spending half the time in the city anyway. Morgan and I spent so many nights sleeping over at the castle the servants ended up giving us permanent rooms, even before Mom and Dad died.

One night I passed out on the settlement's outskirts, and a pair of townsfolk brought me into their home. Newlyweds, I could tell before they informed me by how sickly sweet they were around each other. The man's name was Holland, red hair and a scruffy beard that always looked half shaved. Theresa was his wife, a simple looking brunette with dimpled cheeks and a tired expression. Both worked as shopkeepers in the square, running the general store and living a modest life.

They let me sleep on an extra bed in their attic. Spared me some food and drink too, even though I was rather hostile to their hospitality. The next day they'd called the local Priest over to see if I was injured, and I promptly scared him away when he tried to remove my gloves. Both of them weren't happy with my showing, but back then I was too paranoid to care about what other people thought of me.

When they told me where I was, I slipped into one of the darkest ruts I'd ever been in. Alone, on an island. Miles away from Ylisse, cut off by an entire ocean. Not a coin on me to try and find a ship to my destination. Plus, for all I knew, I was the only one of the kids who'd made it. There wasn't a trace of Lucina or Cynthia or Noire or, well, _**anyone.**_ For all I knew they were dead, and I'd become the sole survivor of our future.

Stayed up in the attic for five days after that. Didn't talk, barely ate. I'd spend most of my days lying on that lumpy bed, staring at the shingled roof or the wedding ring I kept around my neck. It was valuable, for sure. Easily could've sold it for a pretty penny. But that wasn't gonna happen for obvious reasons. That ring became my tether to the world, as I felt myself slipping further and further away. Things in Hobart were calm and peaceful, and if the family that took me in was anything to go by, they knew nothing about war.

That ring was proof that what I'd gone through wasn't just some bad dream. All the things I lost were real, they happened. My memories weren't just some dark fantasy whipped up by some girl with delusions of grandeur. They were going to happen again, unless I got off my arse and did something about it.

Theresa managed to get me down one day and sat me at her kitchen table. Then she told me that she'd arranged for me to speak with the village elder.

The old man turned out to be _Holland's_ old man, and on their word he offered me a proposition. Work in the town for as long as I was willing to stick around, and he'd compensate a room for me above the couple's store along with a decent pay. No one there really knew their way around a blade, so my showing up seemed like a blessing in disguise.

I didn't want to settle in, but I also didn't have any other options. Besides, getting a job meant I might be able to get enough coin to hop onto a ship. Or at least bribe a deckhand into letting me help stow away. Anything to get back to Ylisse.

I spent the next few years living in that room, a stack of coins slowly piling up as I got ready to take that trip across the sea. Being a town watchman was surprisingly easy. Most nights, I only had to deal with raunchy drunks and petty thieves. Sometimes a small pack of bandits would find their way to my sanctum, but they were easy enough to deal with.

Over time I ended up getting a bit too attached to Holland and Theresa. Funny enough, I was the one who told her that she was pregnant. Poor girl got woozy one afternoon, so I took a bit of time to help her about the shop. She couldn't keep food down, felt light headed, at first you'd think it was the flu. But she wasn't burning up, and her eyes seemed fine. So after a bit of prodding, she told me that she missed her last… time of the month.

Oh, the look on Holland's face when I told him. I'll never forget that expression of pure panic. Subaki looked the exact same way, as if he didn't know how babies were made.

But like everything else in my life, nothing good stayed that way.

A ship landed on the coast, small, but full of Valmese troops. A piece of work named Nelson started pillaging the countryside, taking anything and everything he could find. Food, tools, livestock and coin. Especially coin. It got so bad that people stopped coming near Hobart entirely, and the town slowly started to wither away. I tried, Naga knows I **tried** to beat them back. But every time I killed one of them two more showed up the next day. Everyone else in town was useless in a fight, what was I supposed to do? Throw a staff in their hands and make them help? I couldn't put them at risk.

Then Nelson personally came to town. Him and a crew of his lackeys started looting everything in sight. Sooner or later they hit the General Store, and managed to snatch everything that wasn't nailed down.

Including my savings and my mother's wedding ring.

I marched up to an old fortress they'd taken over the next day, Holland tagging along despite my protests. It went… better than I expected. They didn't fight us, at least. If anything the opposite happened, Nelson wanted to hire me. A few of the rats I'd left alive scurried back to their den, and given me a decent reputation. He offered to pay me too, triple what the townspeople did. All I had to do was help him build his own little empire.

Almost said no. But then I saw the ring on his finger. He could tell I was looking, too, and flashed it at me. Smart weasel put two and two together, realized the ring was mine, and decided to hold it as collateral.

So I said yes. Even though it made me ill, I said yes to working for a violent, horrible man. Why?

Because he had my dead mother's ring.

Class act, Sev.

* * *

"...So what happened next?" Percy asked. He's turned around to face me, legs crossed like a school child listening to the teacher. Poor tyke was hanging on every word, waiting for some sort of big climax to happen.

"The Ylisseans showed up, Chrom included. Nelson got killed, I signed on with the good guys." I explain nonchalantly. "Maybe if you wait, I'll tell you how I did that."

"Still can't believe you were working with a Valmese General!" Percy protests in annoyance. "Isn't that like, treason?"

I shrug. "Probably. But I didn't know about the War. Plus Nelson wasn't a Valmese General anymore."

Percy tilts his head, intrigued by that information I'd kept from him. "So, can I continue?"

"Yes! Come on, I'm dying from suspense here!"

"You're the one stalling!" I protest, shooting a murderous glare at the boy as he shrinks away and quiets down. Swear to the Gods, some people don't know when to pipe down.

* * *

Lucky for me, Nelson was a paranoid sort of monster.

He always surrounded himself with the best of his fighters, letting the cannon fodder handle the looting and raiding. Holland ended up joining up himself, business at the shop withering away into nothing. Plus with his kid on the way, and Theresa not getting enough food for her or her passenger, he got desperate.

I'd spend day after day playing bodyguard for the bastard, listening to his delusions of grandeur. When he wasn't ranting about how much he hated Walhart for stunting his rise to power, he'd boast about how he'd create his own empire. Slowly get the funds and the men to overthrow the Count of Brisbonne, then spread his dirty mitts into the neighboring territories. Growing and growing until he thought he could take Walhart on himself.

Still couldn't believe the idiot threw away a position like being a Valmese General so he could turn into a glorified bandit leader. But at least he was as predictable as he was vain. After a few weeks I figured his pattern out easily enough; ambushing trade caravans and raiding the local settlements for everything they had.

It was unsustainable, for both him and the townspeople.

Holland managed to make a deal with him; the towns pay tribute and he stops with the pillaging. Sure, it nearly bankrupted them every month, but it kept their homes standing and their people breathing.

Meanwhile I'd spend my time toddling about the fort, checking for holes in the defenses. Most of the bandits were usually drunk, so my skulking never seemed to be noticed.

The walls were about to fall apart. Cracks criss-crossed their way from top to bottom along the supports. It didn't take an engineer to figure out where a few well placed firebombs would bring the whole thing down. I just had to figure out how to craft explosives, plant them, light them on fire, get everything Nelson had stolen out, and keep Holland alive. All the while making sure no one found out.

And you know what? I at least got the first part done before the Shepherds arrived!

Do you know how hard it is to teach yourself how to make a bomb!? And not some namby pamby fire cocktail, I'm talking an actual explosive! I had to bribe _three_ people to get the stuff I needed, nearly blew off my fingers twice while I put them together, almost blew my cover, **literally.** And just when I was planning out an escape, everything was set and ready, I just needed a few more weeks, Chrom shows up! Why was he even down there!? It was a hill-fort in the middle of nowhere!

...Why am I trying to justify myself to myself in my own thoughts? Do I do this every time something goes wrong? Naga's grace, I _do_ have a problem.

Whatever, anyway. One afternoon a few scouts come to Nelson's chamber and tell him that his Exalted Perfectness was making his way up the hill to fight him head on. Naturally, he panicked and started rallying his personal guard. Holland get sent off to the front with the rest of his cannon fodder. When I protested, Nelson held up the ring. Said as long as he had that, I had to do anything and everything he wanted.

That's when he waved me off and told me to check the gate. I could hear him laughing at me as I walked out the door.

That's when I finally had it. It was one thing to be a glorified guard dog for this slime, but I'd be damned if I killed for him. It'd betray everything that ring even stood for and why I even jumped through that portal to begin with.

I needed to find Holland and get us out of there. My plan probably wasn't gonna work, we weren't gonna get a second chance like this.

* * *

I'd omitted the parts about time travel anyway, just told him I was a wandering sell-sword moving from contract to contract. Considering my attitude, he bought the idea pretty quickly. Still, he looks rather disappointed now. "So that's it? Nothing important or dramatic? No fighting any of the actual Imperials?"

"Not until we went back to the mainland. I found my friend, Chrom dealt with Nelson, and I joined the League." I inform, lifting a hand and ruffling his hair against his will. "I'll tell you about that another time, champ."

"Stooooooooop!" Percy protests, batting my hand away and moving to straighten his hair once more. Once again I find myself giggling at his misfortune, but he doesn't seem to be holding it against me. It's nice to see him like this though. Whenever he isn't weighed down by his job, he's actually a really nice kid. If I ever have a son, I think it'd be nice if he turned out like this.

My enjoyment always seems to be on a timer, though. As I look up I can see Caeldori making her way towards us, an uneasy smile on her face. She offers a quick bow to Percy, the boy's face putting on a blush as he looks away, then another one to me. I answer with a nod, then lift my hand for her to grab.

"What is it now?" I ask as she grabs on, grunting as my daughter pulls me up. I begin to dust off the grass that's surely stuck to my keister, ears open for the explanation. "Did someone else get hurt? Someone took something they shouldn't have? Something's on fire?"

"None of the above." Caeldori dismisses, waving for me to come along with her as she starts trotting back the way she came. I look to my left and give Percy a parting wave, the boy smiling meekly before he returns himself back into the tent and gets to work.

"Then what's the matter?" I ask, eyes forward as the oil lamp light guides us walking between the tents. Caeldori's got one on her hip too, clunking softly against her riding gaiters and illuminating her hip.

"I just wanted to walk you to your tent." Caeldori muses innocently, as if nothing out of the ordinary was going on.

"Uh huh." I say as we walk, lock step with one another. "Why?"

"Because knowing you, you would have spent the entire night outside moping." She answers smugly, lowering her volume. "Something I've noticed with you, Mother. You tend to do bad things first, then drown in remorse afterwards.

"Elegant word-choice." I retort, snorting at her assessment.

She grins at me from my flank. "In truth, I planned to give you more of a lecture. But after your time with Mister LeRoux, I felt it unnecessary." Caeldori's grin falters as my dismay becomes apparent. Little weasel spent way too much time around Rhajat back in Hoshido, now she thinks she can snoop around and people won't bat an eye.

"I didn't want to interrupt." She explains half-heartedly. "Plus it let me see how you interact with Percival."

"Just call him Percy." I request.

"But I prefer Percival!" Caeldori answers in defiance. "Percy… reminds me of the old Percy. And they're both so different, I don't want to call them the same name."

"Ugh. Fine, call him whatever." I permit defeatedly. Not worth pulling hairs over this.

Caeldori's smile returns with her small victory, walking at my side as reach my tent. Peaking my head inside, I can see Subaki's already retired to our personal quarters. His desk is uninhabited, all his work stacked neatly on each side. Meanwhile on the opposite end, I still have a mess to work through.

"You left a lot out from your story." Caeldori chirps once more as I pull my head back from the inside. "You didn't even mention grandmother and grandfather."

"I had to fib a bit of it, dear. You know why." I give the tent one last look before sighing, before going inside fully and traversing over to my work. Caeldori follows, eyeing me as I start to shuffle the papers into stacks similar to my spouse.

A frown's creasing my face as Caeldori keeps the conversation going. "Do you really need to spend another night here? Father's worried sick, and so am I. It feels like you never speak with us now."

"Someone has to do this work." I note, pulling out a candlestick. As I set it down on the wood, remove my gloves and look at the wick. "And no, I'm not making you spend all night instead."

"I suppose this is another case of your being allowed to be a hypocrite?" Caeldori jabs weakly. I glance up to see my daughter's eyes, wallow in sorrow.

"You and your father come first to me. So I'm willing to be a hypocrite if it means you get proper sleep." I reply, cracking a small smile. "Go. I'll see you in the morning."

Caeldori nods, but remains stiff. Her eyes travel down to glance at the brand resting on the back of my hand, peering at it deeply. "That mark." She mumbles, leaning forwards to get a closer look. "Another thing you've never explained to me."

My hand goes to cover up the back of my hand, pulling both away from her line of sight. "Some things best remain buried."

"Even from me?" She presses.

" **Especially** from you." I inform. "This brand's given me and your Aunt hell from the moment we were born. There isn't a day that goes by I don't thank the Gods you're free from it."

"That doesn't make me want to know why any less, Mother." Caeldori protests bitterly. "Can you please stop sheltering me from your past? Why? Why do you always keep so much about yourself away from everyone around you?"

"Gods willing, you'll never need to find out why." I take the candlestick back in my hands, holding my thumb and forefinger at the wick.

It's been a while since I've used this trick. Anakos told us not to do anything that could reveal our links to other worlds. He took away Owain's brand, our hair colors, even our clothes. But I never bothered to try and see if I could still make use of my inheritance.

Now's a good a time as any.

I close my eyes, inhale, exale. When I open them I focus on the tip of my fingers. The flow of my aura's dormant, but it's there. Just a bit of jarring and…

I chuckle darkly as my fingers burst alight in purple flame. Like riding a bike.

Caeldori gasps, jumping away as I press my thumb and forefinger against the top of the wick. My birthmark rages alive with color as well, right before I kill the energy. Like a switch, it all turns off. The only remnant of what just occurred is the bright lavender flame that now illuminates the tent, bringing light to my face and my daughter's.

"What… what _was_ that?" Caeldori asks, leaning forward to inspect the flickering light as if it was an alien life form. She hops about the desk, trying to find something wrong with the fire itself.

My smile holds, though I want nothing more to just disappear into the ground. Ignis still works, not sure if that's a good or a bad thing yet.

Well, suppose I'll find out soon enough.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ **This one took me a lot longer to get out than I expected it too. But on the plus side, the next two chapters I've basically got preplanned in my head. We'll be having another Xenologue, for everyone who wants to see how the first generation's still managing.**

 **As a sidenote, I'm finalizing the full outline for this whole storyline now. From the events of the original timeline, to the Awakening chapters, to Fates, to this series. Things are getting straightened out and everything should be lining up, so the big plotpoints will be easier to put down in writing.**

 **A belated Happy Holidays and Happy New Year, guys. Here's to making 2019 better than 2018.**

 **o/**


	22. C-18: Sins of the Father

It's been three weeks since I broke Vincent in half. Every day since then has been the same old same old. Wake up, breakfast, morning drills, lunch, midday drills, dinner, evening patrols, paperwork, bed. Over, and over, and over again. It's been so completely boring, I've been wound up waiting for something to happen.

I spend some time alone with Subaki at the mess tent. We try to talk and make some time for just ourselves, but with how everything's happening we never seem to have the free time. An hour at each meal at best. Sometimes one of us sneaks into the other's tent, but people are starting to give me weird looks when I wander out of his quarters at the break of dawn.

So without making any progress on that front, we part and I take a plate of eggs to my desk. One hand shoveling food into my mouth, the other writing on paper after paper. That's when Morgan slipped into my tent and dropped a scroll on my desk. Nearly fell onto the plate of eggs I was scarfing down.

"Hello to you too." I greet with a grumble, setting my fork down on the plate and unraveling the parchment. It a map. One that's been scrawled all over with arrows, zig zags and footnotes. The river that we were scouting with the Valentians… what is it now, two months ago? It's a battle plan.

"What in the world…?" I ask, eyes still focused on the drawing.

"First day." Morgan croaks out, sounding way too tired. I start taking a mental note of each unit's name scrawled across each arrow. They're color coded, blue and lavender denoting the origin of each element. Some hash mark is used to label each one based on their type; infantry, cavalry, mages, archers.

"First day? This is just one day!?" I ask, banking every motion to memory. It was... a preemptive strike. A bunch of different companies heading over the river and taking out the forward camps. After that we were supposed to hold in place for a while, then... run back the way we came? With a bunch of archers waiting on our side of the river. Oh my Gods, she's trying to force their hand with a fake attack. Why didn't I think of that?

"The whole battle's gonna take a week by my estimate." Morgan explained, I can hear her yawn. "Tomorrow we're gonna attack some camps in the woods… why's everything here named so funny? What's an _Alsace_ anyway? It sounds like a food seasoning, not forest."

"Morgan, you're gonna need to help me with this. Where am I even supposed to go?" I ask, setting the map down to take a look at her. I swallow my words when I get an actual look at my absentee sibling.

Morgan's eyes are ringed with dark bags. Doesn't look like she's done her hair in a while, the bob cut's now reached far past her shoulders. She's out of dress too, the only thing she's wearing is a pair of baggy pants and a cream tank-top that doesn't leave enough to the imagination. One of the straps are sagging too.

"What the hell!?" I cry out, making her jump back. She squeaks at the scare, tensing up her shoulders and stiffening. "Wh-what happened!?"

"U-um…" Morgan mumbles weakly as I stand. As she tries to explain I take her by the shoulders and guide her to the cot in the tent's corner. "I've been busy. Planning. Coordinating. Research."

"What kind of research does this?" I ask as we both sit down, the cot creaking in pain as it takes on our combined weight.

"Risen mask." She answers. "Investigating the source. New leads..."

Scowling, I try to keep Morgan steady as she sways back and forth. My little sister feels all clammy, like a living corpse. Her skin is cold to the touch and she feels way lighter than usual.

Now that I have a clear look at her back, I can also make out the purple brand burning on her right shoulder blade. It's bright, almost too bright to have gone unnoticed. If we're lucky it blended in with her hair, if we aren't...

"Damn it." I curse, pulling her down and making her lay on the cot. "Stay here, OK? I'm gonna get someone."

She tries to sit back up, but I push her back down and bore my eyes into her. Clearly fearing for her safety, she nods and pulls a blanket over her person.

After that I run out of the tent, there's one person in camp who's going to be able to help her.

* * *

"She just needs bed rest."

Blanche's healing stave dimmed as she stopped channeling, the white light having washed over Morgan for some time. I'd found her giving a sermon at the camp chapel. People from both armies were there, saying their prayers in their own native rites. Ancient Archenan and Valentian mixing together into a humming hymn, filling the air.

I ambushed Blanche afterwards, basically abducting her over here. After a quick diagnosis and another trip to get her staff, she'd gone to work on Morgan.

Little Miss War Cleric warbled in place. I brought a chair over and set it behind her, which she promptly collapsed into and gasped for breath.

"We didn't run _that_ far, your luminosity." I taunt as I take a seat on the grass, resting my back against the cot. I can finally feel some heat coming from Morgan's dozing form. She's snoring loudly in my ear, but honestly I'm just glad she's alright.

Blanche glared down at me, resting her staff in her lap. "I have not even had my meal yet, Volkner!" She snapped, teeth grit together. "And what do you mean 'not that far!?' Your tent is on the opposite side of the encampment from the common area!"

"Details, details." I wave away, verbally and physically. "If you're that hungry I've still got some eggs on that plate over there."

She looks over to my desk, scrunching up her nose as she spots my half-eaten food. "Do I look like a dog do you?"

"You're lucky we declared that truce, because you make it way too easy." I keep mocking, yawning softly myself. "I've got a few ration bars in the drawers, for your oh so discerning palate."

"I decline." She answers, shifting a bit in the chair. "After this I'm just going to the mess tent anyway."

"You're sure she's alright?" I ask once more.

"You have my word that your sister is fine. In truth the problem seems to be fatigue." Blanche explains. "She's locked herself in her tent for the past week. The only person to come out was a messenger runner."

"She's been obsessed with that risen mask we gave her." I mention. Maybe a bit too bitterly.

Blanche hums in tandem. "I do not blame her, frankly I would be lying if I said I was not curious."

"I still say we should've broken it."

"And lose a subject of study?" Blanche queries. "Truly this is the best chance to find the origin of these beasts."

"Who cares where they came from? The problem is that they're _here._ "

That got Blanche to smile. It's a lopsided smile, like she was just told a clever joke. "Isn't the way the story is supposed to go is that I, the Cleric, should be chastising _you_ over keeping an unholy relic?"

Still, the grin spreads over to me as she reveals just how self-aware she is at the mirrored situation we've found ourselves in. "Told ya life is strange like that." I answer, invoking that time we shared a bottle of ale at the tavern. "But you're a hundred percent sure the mask hasn't done anything to her?"

"My dear, you're speaking to a Doctor of the Church." She explains. "Out of anyone in this country. Dare I say anyone in this region of Valm itself, I am the most educated in the effects of elder corruption. If I am allowed to brag about my accomplishments."

"Allowed or not, you did it anyway, so why even ask?" I reply in annoyance, running a hand through my hair. I feel way, way too tense. This isn't how I wanted the morning to start. "She's my kid sister. I just… I need to be sure."

"You need not explain yourself to me, Captain. If Cherche was in a similar state I know I would be as distraught." Blanche comforts with a smile. Times like this, you can tell that she really is in her element. War doesn't seem to suit her very well, even if she is a War Cleric. She's very soft and sincere, nothing like the bat out of hell I'd grown so accustomed too from my time here.

"...You being this nice to me is weirding me out." I admit, shifting my rump around.

A soft chuckle. "So you would prefer if I returned to insulting you?"

"It's really jarring." I keep explaining. "You went from hating my guts to treating me well in just about a month."

"I've seen you work." She clarifies. "You care for your men, even though they are not of your homeland. You are diligent, even if grouchy while doing so. You've done what was asked of you, even when you need not take this duty."

"Wonderful." I state genuinely, returning the smile with equal glee.

"That being said, I still do not trust you or your sister." She throws out, ruining the mood. My face freezes in place as I can feel the corner of my mouth twitch.

I stare at her, waiting for an explanation why. She keeps humming to herself for a moment, focusing on the small of Morgan's back as she rolls over to bare her shoulders at us. A new heat bears against my neck now, coming off from her brand as it remains aglow.

"Remember when I said you both have an immense elder magic presence?" Blanche asks. I nod in response, but my heart drops as I put the dots together. "At first I thought this was because you both dabbled regularly in the dark arts. Hexes are still commonly used on Archanea." I could see her eyes flash as she looked at me, her friendly aura morphing into a wary defense. "But then your brands started to act strangely."

"I… uh…" Crap, crap, crap. I'm an idiot. I'm an IDIOT! What did I think was going to happen, bringing a clergywoman to look over Morgan. Of course she'd notice the fell presence! She already had once before with me!

"Normal birthmarks or tattoos do not burn with light." Blanche points out. She isn't making any motions for the axe on her hip this time, but I'm not so sure if I want to take the chance. Probably could spring up and tackle her before she could react. Push comes to shove I can easily put myself between her and Morgan.

"Then comes the matter of her and your arrival matching up oh so coincidentally as the risen make their return." She reveals.

"Wait, what!?" I yell out. "Hold up, you don't think we're the reason those things are back, do you!?"

"I know that there was no word or sign of them until a month after your sister's troops arrived." Blanche states matter-of-factly. "I know that the first attacks did not occur until you were both present in Roseanne."

"Blanche. I wasn't even on Valm when Morgan came here." I tell her desperately.

"And where were you? Elibe? Jugdral? From what I understand you simply disappeared." I doubt Morgan would've told her that, so Virion and Cherche were likely the ones to give that information over. Ugh, I wish this witch wasn't related to them! It'd make life so easy!

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." It's the truth, she wouldn't. No one would.

She stared blankly at me, her face not betraying if she registered a word I said. "Too many things line up."

Again my eyes dart to her axe. I'm physically fighting myself to keep my hand away from the knife on my belt. The last thing I need is to give her validation… even _if_ I'd be thinking the same thing if I was in her shoes. "Then what're you gonna do?"

"What can I do?" She placidly admits. "You and your sister are foreign citizens. She is a high ranking officer, and you both belong to a Ylissean noble house. Acting on my suspicions would be self-destructive, Roseanne needs your troops." The woman stands to her feet, bringing her staff up and holding it to her side. "That and the Duke assures me you are both our allies and friends. As his Brigadier I do as he wishes."

"...And if none of that was the case?" I ask again, wary of her answer.

"I would promptly remove both of your heads." She cooly says. A shiver rises up my spine as I stand to meet her.

My hands are shaking. My whole _body_ is shaking. I've had a target painted on my back for this long and didn't notice. Who else is thinking this? Other Priests? Other soldiers? Maybe even some of my own men. And if someone saw Morgan's back while she walked here...

"Why are you telling me all of this? Showing your hand means I'll be more on guard from here on out."

An inhale and an exhale. Her eyes shut then open as her chests rises and lowers. "Because Miss Volkner, I desperately want to be wrong about my fears." She says. "Political reasons aside, I would rather not have two more lives added to my tally."

"How merciful." I spit out. "And if I don't believe you?"

"Then we find ourselves at another impasse, do we not?" She replies smugly, the corner of her mouth turning up.

She's right, we're at an impasse. As long as this war's going on, as long as she's working for Virion, she won't lay a finger on us. The consequences would be too severe for everyone involved. But the moment this ends Blanche is gonna be a wildcard I can't afford to have. Once she's done with me and Morgan…

Subaki. Caeldori. Imagining them locked up in a church tower. Oh gods, no.

Any more words I have die in my throat. She knows that the conversation is over. So Blanche curtsies, both hands grabbing the hem of her skirt as she bends her knee. Again I stop myself from drawing, fearing that she might lash out with her axe.

"Regardless, I must prepare for tomorrow's assault. Your company will be amongst the raiders, Captain. I recommend you spend the day resting as I will." Her words sound oh so sincere, but there's a bite to them. If I turn up dead tomorrow, it'll be a relief to her.

I nod. She leaves. Once she's gone I turn back around and crouch before my sleeping sister, wondering what my next play is going to be. Morgan's still oh so peaceful, not having caught a lick of what just occurred.

She might be a deeper sleeper than Nah.

* * *

Come dawn the next day, I push the previous morning out of my mind.

Morgan's orders involved us leaving camp before sunrise. We marched out towards the river and over the earthworks that had been dug up, then rushed over a few pontoon bridges into the forest on the other side. Half an hour of walking through the forest, keeping an eye out for any scouts or sentries. Until we reached our target, a Valentian camp.

The battle plan was laid out in stages. First stage was getting here without being spotted, which we've managed. Now we're just sitting outside the camp grounds, all of the troops spreading themselves around.

"I must admit, I am rather nervous." Caeldori mutters, holding her naginata close as we remain crouched at the edge of a small mound. "What do you see?"

I pull my spyglass down and retract it, then place the device into my satchel. "About four lookouts, one in each cardinal direction. Everyone else seems to still be in their tents. Judging from the lamp shadows, I'd say four or five people in each."

"And there are twelve tents. Plus I can hear noise coming from that larger one in the center." My daughter aims her finger at a sprawling, tapestry draped tent in the center. A large green and yellow flag waves in the sky above. More than a few voices can be heard clamoring inside, along with some pots and pans.

"They must be getting the group's breakfast ready." I observe, my own stomach growling in rebellion. One of the basic rules of war; never fight battles on an empty stomach. Gods, and they were serving sausages too! Gah!

"I would put a conservative estimate at sixty people." Caeldori thinks out loud. I bob my head in agreement, then turn to see her grimacing. "Are we sure that our people are prepared for this?"

"It's an easy job." I answer. "They don't see us coming, most of'em are still asleep and can't fight back. A mob of brigands could take these guys out, and they don't have military training."

"Does a month of drilling count as a full tenure of training here?" The warrior woman asks in disbelief.

I nod. "This isn't Hoshido, Caeldori. Most people in this world don't spend their entire lives honing warcraft."

"That… actually sounds rather quaint…" The sky knight admits, sighing as she looks about. "Should I go check if the men are ready."

"No." I jut a thumb over my shoulder, back the way we came. "Go make sure the Priests and Clerics are ready."

"But-"

"Caeldori, I had you bring Hinoka for a reason." I begin. "For now I need someone to guard them. After that I need a messenger to tell the Officers we've completed the first step."

"But I'll miss the entire battle!" She hisses in protest. "This is insulting, do you really think I can't handle myself in a fight!? I could likely clear this camp on my own!"

I jerk my head back over to her and snarl wickedly. "We're alone out here. If something goes wrong, no one will know and we **need a lifeline."** My words are pouring out of me before I can even think. There's too much on my mind to care about tact. "I'm not putting lives at risk for your **ego**. **Now** **do as I say!"**

Caeldori jumps at my sudden harshness, but her eyes harden just as quickly. She stares at me, her hands clutching her naginata as she opens and releases her grip in repetition. Half a mind tells me she's about to slug the back of my head.

"As you wish, 'Captain'." She forces herself to say, and leaves in a huff. My shoulders relax as I turn back to look at the camp.

A sound enters my realm of consciousness as footsteps sure themselves up next to me. Gwen goes down on one knee and peers out in the same direction I am, snickering as usual. "Take it she drew the short straw?"

"If by that I mean I made her, then yes." I answer in a low tone. Once again I've managed to turn my kid against me. This is starting to get old.

"Ah, that explains it." Gwen replies agreeably, yawning into the early morning. "Platoons're gonna be ready in five minutes by the way."

I grunt. "You brought the horn?"

She shakes the curved brass instrument next to my ear. "It's two blows to signal the attack right?"

Groaning, I lift my left hand with the fingers in question. "Two long calls to move in." I extend a third finger. "Three to hold the attack." Then a last. "Four to retreat."

"Got it." My Sergeant Major yawns again. "Gods, should've had some coffee before this."

"Got some in my canteen." I shake my hip, then feel her pluck it from my belt as she takes a long swig. Followed by an unceremonious belch.

"Ohhhh, that's the stuff. This that famous Ylissean roast I been hearin' about?"

"You think I'd drink that bitter sludge you Valmese call coffee?"

"I'd be offended if I didn't just drink black gold." Gwen answers, loudly slurping from my canteen. Almost like she's sucking on the thing… I'm gonna use a fire tome to clean it. "Say, been meanin' to ask uh… the Looie and you…"

"If you're about to suggest we're a thing, I'm going to stab you here." I threaten.

"Hey, hey! I know you're hitched!" She defends, but knowing her she's still smiling that dumb smile. "I wanted tuh ask if y'all were related."

"She's my Husband's cousin." I lie cleanly.

We'd discussed this before amongst ourselves. Subaki and I agreed that we would refer to Caeldori as his ward, to avoid needing to explain the deeprealms. Morgan and I agreed that as far as anyone asked, both of our parents had died during Grima's rising. It gave us believable covers given our unbelievable pasts. Subaki's does have four years on me, so it's not hard to buy into the idea that he's got a generally older family.

Besides, it would avoid people harassing Caeldori about favoritism. I know my daughter well enough that she's as hard on herself as I am to myself. If only Blanche didn't know, then I could avoid her being caught in any collateral come our fallout.

"Where's her parents?" Gwen asked.

"Dead. Same way your parents went." I quickly cobble together. It's good, build sympathy with a common backstory. Means the topic's sensitive enough that she won't bother Caeldori about it. "We took her in seven years ago when she was barely a teenager. So I'm more of a foster mother than anything."

"So you didn't raise'er?" She keeps interrogating.

"No." I admit, the pit piercing through my stomach. Guilt about the deep realm's never going to go away, and being reminded of it always makes it so much worse. "But I we treat each other like our own."

"Sure as hell fight like your own." Gwen quips. "So why did ya send'er back? We could've used a runner all the same."

"Because she's never killed anyone, and I plan on keeping it that way as long as I can." I stick my hand behind me, beckoning for the canteen. Once Gwen hands it over, I take a sip myself and try to ignore her backwash.

"She's a soldier now, Cap. Killin's part of the territory." Gwen hummed. "We're all here willin'ly, we're all willin' to do what needs doin'."

I roll my eyes, looking over my shoulder. "How many people have you had to take out?"

She's looking forward with an empty look. No dopey grin, no smarmy glance. Her usual cock-sure attitude's missing entirely, hell she looks _serious_ for the first time since I've gotten to know her. Even back in the castle when she had a blade in her arm she was making jokes and laughing.

"Enough tuh understand why you're shieldin'er from this." Gwen admits. "Killin' folks ain't natural. Ain't what Mila would've wanted. It's why when we do it, we get that guilt. 'Cuz we know there should've been a better way."

"I'm sensing a 'but' coming."

She frowns, pointing forward as a pair of soldiers leave one of the tents and starts walking towards the center of camp. "But I know if I don't kill these folks now, they're gonna hurt the people I'm protectin' at home. So I'll do it without flinchin' and drink to forget later."

"Words to live by." I agree begrudgingly.

No, I can't hide her from this life. Yes, she chose to do this knowing it'd mean hurting people. But still, in spite of it all I feel like I need to try something. Fighting Vallites might be harder than dealing with normal people, but that doesn't make it any less taxing. And it doesn't help that she's good at what she does. When she said she could clear this entire camp on her own, I totally believed her.

Funny. I'm not worried about her getting hurt at all, but what'll happen when she gets others hurt. My priorities are totally out of whack.

"...So uh, reason why I was askin'..." Gwen starts back up. "Is uh… she's single, right?"

That does it. I do a spit-take with my coffee, splattering the dark liquid all over the grass I've been laying on. Some of it even gets into my mouth, and I need to spit that crap out as well.

"I take it that's a yes?" Gwen follows up.

"Wh-why are you asking me!?" I sputter, still trying to get a few green blades off of my tongue.

"Well I could ask your hubby, but I see you more than him." She this like it's completely natural. Which it isn't. Nothing about this is normal and I want it to stop immediately.

"I didn't even know you were into girls, Gwen!"

That smarmy grin returns, along with some dancing eyebrows. "I'm happy with either or. Cute's cute."

Nope. We're not talking about this now. Already have enough stuff screwing with my head as is. I just point to the horn in her hands. "J-just give the signal already!"

"Alright, alright. Yeesh." Gwen concedes, bringing the horn up. She takes in a long breath, readying her lungs before unleashing two long blows. The waves fly through the forest, silencing any chirping birds or scurrying squirrels. All of the Valentians turn to face my direction. The a few heads poke out from the assorted tents.

Our men burst out from the surrounding brush. From behind bushes and trees, springing up from laying silently on the ground. Beforehand we had surrounded the camp in a semi-circle, leaving the rear open. Now a wall of lavender roared out from the forest's green, spears hefted forwards.

" **ALARM!"** One of the sentries cries out, running back towards the main tent in a panic. Other Valentians start to stumble out from their dormitory tents, half dressed and half asleep. Only when they see the oncoming attack do they realize what's happening.

I draw my sword and beckon Gwen to her feet. She readies her shield and spear, then both of us rush up forwards just as both forces make contact. Screams and cries kick off while we rush forwards, along with the din of armor and metal smashing together. Bodies falling down onto the dew covered grass.

Both of us piece through the peripheral ring and head for the center tent. A few Roseannean troops take note and follow us, breaking off from the others. There's about eight of us in total as we surge in through the flaps and look inside.

We're greeted by seven people, all in various stages of dress. One girl is actively hiding behind a large pot, clutching a wooden spoon like it's a club. Two myrmidons come to meet us, one after the other. And of course, because I'm at the front, they come after me first.

As the first one brings their blade down to strike at me, I lift my buckler and deflect the attack. My hand goes up as I wrap it around his shoulder, then slip my rapier between his ribs. The strike is wet and meaty, judging from the resistance I tear a hole right in his lung.

The second myrmidon tries to lunge forward and pierce my side while I'm undefended, but I just keep my hold on his already dying companion and twist him around. A second blade goes through the unlucky fellow, slicing past a shoulder blade and almost nicking me.

I push the now-corpse away, tearing my weapon out in the process and using it as a weight to bring my final assailant back to the ground. My friends have already run behind me and deeper into the tent to deal with whatever's left while I focus on the scraps in front of me.

The myrmidon's pinned under the cadaver of his fallen friend. His blade's still jammed through, and judging by the looks of it the hilt is also shoving itself into his stomach. Poor boy keeps trying to weasel himself out from underneath, and his desperation only gets worse as I stand above him with my bloodied blade.

One strong kick to the head's enough to knock him out.

Another scream fills my ears, and as I turn around one of my men goes flying back out the entrance we came.

At the very end of the tent from the back room, a large man's made his way into the center. Fur collar is lining his neck, along with a large bronze helmet covering up his face. No weapon in his hands, but he doesn't need one. All of my men are getting tossed around like sacks of potatoes, slammed against the ground and into the meal tables. There's three other people behind him, but they're panicked enough to just be content to hide in his shadow.

Gwen stumbles back as he slugs her square in the chest. Then he stomps forward and follows up with a kick in the same place, and now she's launched onto her ass and at my feet. I quickly start to pull her back up, her heavy breathing in my ear.

"You OK?" I ask, draping her arm over my shoulder. She answers with a cough, spitting onto the ground before nodding.

My other troops are slowly clawing themselves up, grabbing their weapons once more and surrounding the muscular behemoth. Gwen steps up to her feet, pulling her short sword out as her usual spear lies on the other side of the room. Once again we begin to surround him, steel tips forming a ring of death. Each aimed for his abdomen, chest or side. Impossible to block.

Letting my sword hang at my side, I lift up my left hand. The militiamen and women stay still, looking over to my in anticipation. I jump between reading their eyes, some look scared out of their skin, others seem to be begging me to give them the order.

"Last chance to give up. Not really any other way out of this for you." I inform, hand going down to rest on my hip. Gwen's huffing next to me, rubbing her chest where the blows landed. I think her armor's dented too, how strong is this guy?

The man stays still, the only way I can tell he's alive is how his chest keeps rising and settling with each breath. Through the slits of his helmet, I can barely make out his eyes. Sharp and yellow, like a lightning bug in the darkness. No response at all.

"If you give up, I'll tell my guys to quit the murdering outside." I jerk my thumb over my shoulder, towards the telltale sound of battle. Judging by how things are going, the fighting's shifted from the outskirts and pushed more into the core of the ring itself. "You and whoever's still alive can see the end of this."

Another beat of silence. The yellow behind his mask flickers up and down, as if he's trying to judge my trustworthiness from what he can see in front of me. My uniform's probably all greened up from grass and moss stains, plus the red splattered over my blade and torso.

He complies though. Going down on both knees and resting one hand on each of his thighs.

I point to a random person. "You, rope." They nod and run, I point to another person. "You, get the healers over here." They also take off.

"Watch them. No one leaves this tent until they're all bound." Is my final order before walking away. Gwen stomps behind me, grumbling as we part through the tent.

The outside's lost any semblance of serenity it had once possessed. Tents are torn apart and stomped on. Poles, stands and clothes lines are strewn about like a small child's playpen. A lot of bodies are lying down on the ground in different poses. The green of their uniforms almost bleeds into the ground. Some don't even have weapons near them.

"Hold the attack." I parse. Gwen complies, bringing the instrument to her mouth and firing off three long, shaky notes. Soon after the sound of combat starts to die itself, the cacophony of strikes and slashes ceasing.

Off in the distance, the group of healers trudges their way towards the battleground. Think I hear my leaf haired companion say something about checking for prisoners, and she leaves me. So I walk halfway to meet the six men and women, all keeping their healing staves close while Percy heads them up. Caeldori brings up the rear, riding atop her steed and taking vigil over the scene before them.

"Any trouble?" I ask him.

Percy shakes his head rapidly, almost throwing his specs from his face. "Not a sound! We just stayed back like you told us."

"Well, at least _someone_ doesn't question my orders." I shoot a look up at the lone rider behind them, her cheeks flaring red as she averts my gaze. "Right, do a headcount and check if we've lost anyone. Fix up any injuries and get ready for the next stage."

They all nod and run forward, eager to get to work and fix what they can. I grab Percy's arm as he moves past me, triggering one of his telltale yelps of surprise.

"If you can save any of the Valentians, do it. Prioritize'em if they're in serious trouble, OK?" I tell him. His eyes twinkle in relief and he nods in the affirmative, running off at triple everyone else's speed with his newfound purpose.

I trot up next to Caeldori's side, removing a cloth from my hip and running it along my red blade. The iron scents mix together and invade my nose, and I resist the urge to puke up the coffee I drank before. "Now you see why I didn't want you here?" I ask her.

"Most of them aren't even dressed…" She observes in a small voice. "They had no chance."

"No, they didn't. We caught them off guard at the worst time." I inform. "Everything went off without a hitch."

Off in the distance, I can see a few of the militia raise their arms and cheer as it seems the fighting's completely ceased. Some of'em are manhandling whatever Valentians surrendered before getting shishkebabed.

"They seem far too happy." Caeldori remarks in disgust.

"They think they just won their first fight, let'em have this." I muse cooly.

"This wasn't a fight, this was a massacre!" She cries out.

"Yeah, the next step's the real fight." I hum as the sun starts to poke it's way through the tree cover. It starts to illuminate my left side, heating up my skin underneath. "Still want to be a hero, dear?"

"Quit rubbing it in." She grumbles.

"Not until you get the point." I press, sheathing my weapon. "People here don't fight like they did in Hoshido and Nohr. When a battle starts, no one holds back. Both sides use whatever trick they can, even if it's…"

"Morally bankrupt?"

"Brutal." I correct. "We aren't fighting Vallites anymore Caeldori. I need to know you can handle this before I send you into combat, alright?"

"...Alright." She concedes, shifting uncomfortably in her saddle as she watches our troop movements. "Thank you. Maybe you do know better than me after all."

"Only maybe? Come on." I huff sarcastically, croaking out a dry laugh. "Do you want to go help Percy with the survivors?"

"I… believe I would prefer that." She complies, nudging Hinoka forwards as they both trot off towards the remains of what had occured. Before she leaves me entirely, she weakly gestures at my head. "You have some b-... wipe your face please." She quietly requests, then solemnly rides forth.

I wipe both my cheeks with a hand, looking at the palms to see one is now smeared with crimson. The smell grows stronger, boring deep through my nose and into my brain. Before I know it, I gag and double over, dry heaving at the scent. Blood and iron. It smells oh so much like home.

* * *

 _ **A/N: So, remember when I said next chapter was going to be revisiting the older Shepherds? I decided to put that off until we get the first battle arc done and dusted. This fanfic has been going on for half a year, over 100,000 words, and only now have we gotten to the military campaign that this story is centered around. So I'll be writing four more chapters of this first.**_

 _ **Speaking of, I've been meaning to bring up a question of formatting. This story is supposed to be the first of four installments, each one headed by the Awakening trio from fates. Originally I had planned to make them each separate, with the fourth one linking it all together into a grand climax. Meanwhile each of Severa, Inigo and Owain's story's would be pretty self contained so people could choose to not read what they weren't into.**_

 _ **So my question to you, my humble reader; should I remain with that plan, or just write each of the stories in a single fic and separate them internally? They'll still be ordered in blocks by each protagonist, but they won't be separate stories you'd need to click on.**_

 _ **Suggestions are welcome. We're still a long way's away from Inigo's story regardless. Speaking of, I've dropped a few hints as to who his father is as well. Brownie points if you've figured it out.**_

 _ **Until next time.**_

 _ **o/**_


	23. C-19: Redwood

It took about half an hour to get all the prisoners tied up and grouped together. More of them survived than I expected honestly. A lot of them didn't even leave their tents, opting to give up without any fuss.

A handful of our troops got hurt, but nothing serious was done. A few scrapes and scratches, one kid had a broken arm after they got caught in a wrestling match. The healers spent more of their time healing the Valentian survivors than anything else.

Some of them were beyond saving. I could see them fade away as blood kept pooling on the dirt next to one of them. The poor girl was barely old enough to even fight. Her eyes were red from crying, she kept asking for the pain to stop over and over again. The Priest who was trying to help her couldn't do anything. That didn't stop her from begging, over and over. Babbling like a newborn.

They always start going on about their mothers right before their lights finally burn out.

The Priest who couldn't save her went off to lose his breakfast in the woods. I spent the rest of the time rifling through the main tent, trying to find anything important. Charts, maps, orders, notes, **something**. All I found was a company roster and their Captain's journal, most of it filled with self-reflective crap about the 'reunification'.

Outside I can hear Caeldori and Gwen raising hell. Something about people trying to loot the tents I guess. Don't know, don't care. Gotta focus on these papers, what kind of officer doesn't have papers in their quarters!?

"Gods **damn** it!" I scream in frustration, kicking wildly at the table's leg. Some of the wood splinters and the furniture sags forward, a few objects slipping off onto the grass. The journal almost fell too, but I snatched it from the tabletop right before it went over the edge.

I freeze for a moment, listening to see if anyone noticed my outburst. Judging from the continued yelling, I doubt it. So I find myself sitting down at the table's chair in spite of our current situation. But at the moment I can't be bothered to care.

I don't want to be here. I don't want to be in charge of almost a hundred lives. I don't want to be surrounded by dying people again, and I don't want on this stupid continent. I wanna go _home_ and have some _peace and quiet_. After everything, don't I deserve that?

I guess I don't, considering I can't have it. Especially with this stupid racket outside! They're even calling my name now, why in the-... wait, why're they calling my name?

" **Captain!"** I hear Caeldori call. " **The patrols just found someone in the woods!"**

Oh for… now I'm actually getting a headache. And that stupid growling is slipping back in my mind.

" **Then put them with everyone else!"** I answer, trying to think through the pain. For Naga's sake it's like someone's driving a metal spike into my head. It hurts, my whole brain just on fire. Same with my hand.

The voices stop. I sit stewing in the chair, clutching my skull in a vice grip as it takes every fiber of my being not to cry out in pain.

Feet scramble outside. I lift my head, senses flooding back as if nothing had happened.

Gwen comes in with another person, I assume the new catch, in hand. Much to my surprise, it isn't a run of the mill soldier. It's a woman with a winged helm, steel grey chest plate and gaiters. A short metal rod seems to be poking from the heel of her boot. Purplish pink set of gloves and matching undershirt finishes her look.

"Who in the name of Anri…?" I look up to Gwen, confused and flustered.

"She was in the woods with her ride, Cap." Gwen informed. "Dunno why, all she had was a spear and a satchel. Looie's going through that right now."

Our captive doesn't say a word. Both her hands have been tightly bound behind her back, her weapons stripped. She doesn't look at me, in fact she seems to be going out of her way to avoid looking my direction at all. A satchel… a _satchel..._

I'm can feel myself smiling. It's a big, evil smile that's showing all of my teeth.

"Leave her here. Tell Caeldori to start part two of the plan."

Gwen grunts. You'd expect her to be a bit worried about leaving me alone with an enemy soldier, but she just does what I ask and leaves without any word.

I stand up from the chair, keeping my arms crossed over my chest as I pace around the woman. Early twenties, pink hair. Her armor's in pristine condition, any marks or buffs all look recent. Probably from the strong-arming that my people gave her.

"Flat as a washboard, in the back and the front." I observe. "Guess that makes you more aerodynamic."

Her eye twitches a bit, a scowl slips through her defenses before she goes blank all over again. She's vain, great. I can work with vain.

"So, you're a novice right?" I prod, eyes going up and down. "I mean, you've gotta be. Armor like that, getting captured that easily…" My head shakes back and forth, mocking laughter twisting between my words. "Oh, oh this is just rich. Just as I was about to give up on this thing, a _Pegasus Knight_ falls right in my lap! Are all you Valentians idiots?"

As I step in front of her, she whips her head down violently towards my own. She choreographs the attack too broadly, and I'm able to use it against her. I step back, let her headbutt the air, then slug a first right under her chin. She hits the ground like a dead fish.

When she rolls onto her back to try and get up, I press my boot hard against her stomach. She's actively wincing from the pain as I keep adding more and more force, I can almost feel her organs getting crushed under my boot.

"Do you like, _want_ me to kill you?" I ask as she starts to cough. These boots aren't the same steel ones I used to wear, I still keep metal in the toes and sole. "Feels like it when you try something that stupid."

I can hear that messed up version of my voice ringing between my ears again. ' _Please say yes. Give me the excuse.'_ She shakes her head no, coughing louder and louder as my boot goes deeper into her stomach.

I can feel myself fading away again, just like what happened with Vincent. Except this time I catch it, and before I know I'm stumbling back as the headache overtakes me once more. Only for a bit, but it's as strong as ever, before it fades.

She's sitting there, weezing as she gaps for a proper breath. Spittle's dripping from her mouth. When I make my way back over, she flails, kicking herself away like a wounded animal. She flops about while I haul her back up to her feet. Both of my mitts grip her chest plate and bring her close, our noses practically touching.

"Are you a messenger?" I question, trying to mimic Beruka as best I can. My fingers lace under the plate, knuckles digging into her chest.

Her head carefully raises and lowers.

"How many of there are you?"

She gulps, then mouths the word 'five'. That's not enough for a combat group, they must be using them for information and scouting.

"Are there more?"

Head shakes like she's been possessed by a demon.

"How about Wyvern riders? _Griffons?_ Anything?"

Another shake, even more intense than the last. Her helmet goes lopsided and slips off onto the ground.

I doubt she's lying to me. Still… the urge to beat her bloody's strong. I don't have to kill her, just make sure she spends the rest of her life using a cane. No one's here, she tried to hit me first. It's self defense…

Again with the pain, but I grit my teeth and hold firm. No. No no, NO! What in the unholy is putting this shit in my head!?

"Cap-" Someone calls as they step inside, stirring me to pull my face away to see who it is. Caeldori's come along with a courier's sack in her hands, another of our soldiers trailing behind her closely. Both look at me, then at my captive audience. Her chin's already bruising from the sucker punch. Add that to the broken table, papers all over the place and her missing helmet, one can guess what's been going on in here.

"Get her with the others." I spit, basically throwing her into the arms of Caeldori's escort. The boy nearly falls over as my human sized projectile makes impact with him, but he straightens himself out. Gives us both a shaky salute then removes her from my sight.

Before Caeldori starts giving me the fourth degree about what happened in here, I move past and get out of the tent.

At the edge of the camp, we've grouped everyone up into a mob. There's about forty prisoners, haggard and disarmed of everything except their shirts and trousers. All of their weapons, armor and gear are piled together. Right now this stuff's worth it's weight in gold, Roseanne can't really afford replacements for their troops.

"This everything?" I ask Caeldori, sensing her as she trapses up to my side.

"Everything still useable." She confirms, her voice clearly testy. She wants to ask what happened but doesn't know how to broach the subject. At least, that's what I'm thinking she's thinking. Right now she's just frowning at the mess. "I specifically told them to organize everything by type."

"Which in soldier means 'gather the crap and put it somewhere near each other'." I joke, with Caeldori's grimace only growing more grand. "When the cavalry shows up with the carts, we'll do that then."

"But if we do it _now_ then it will make loading all of this easier when the carts actually arrive!" She exclaims in exasperation. Still, my redheaded surrogate seems to unhappily accept what's in front of her and move on. "I've also instructed each platoon sergeant to run patrols along the perimeter. When the reinforcements come, we'll know."

"Good. And what was in Pinkie's carrying bag?" I inquire, pointing a finger at the newly acquired loot.

"Maps." She answered, drawing one out and offering it to me. "Unfortunately, with nothing we do not know already."

The title 'Alsace Forest' was scrawled over the top, with circled Xs defacing it rather sporadically. Apparently these camps we were clearing were simply forward command points, the main body of the Army was gathered in a full group to the south.

I draw out my compass and double check, checking the sun as well before turning to face the rough direction that reinforcements should be coming from. "...Morgan wants us to send the captives back _at_ their main force. So, this way."

"Indeed." My daughter chimes, pressing a finger where I'm guessing we're standing. "It should take them at least an hour's march to make it there, with a little less time for whatever force they send to counter us to arrive."

"That's more than enough time to get the carts here. Then we bait them back towards the river." I hum along. The map rolls back up in my hand and I hand it back, looking over to the gaggle of people we have in our custody.

That evil smile of mine returns as I think about how things are going to go. When their commanders see this, they'll be furious. Maddox himself is probably going to be red in the _face_ , stomping around like a feral wyvern. How could anyone expect this? Wiping out their forward camps, stealing all their goodies, _and_ sending their people back almost in the nude?

Only Morgan could come up with a plan this compassionately sadistic.

* * *

Much to my pleasure, it was Subaki's group that came to haul everything off. The others had already dispersed around the remains of the camp, Caeldori taking inventory of everything while I found myself walking back into the forest. After the tent, I just need some time to myself. Clear my head, get some fresh air.

While we were sneaking down this way I didn't pay much mind to the forest itself. The trees are so tall and lush here. Ylisse was full of farmland, plains and fields where you could grow acres of wheat. Before I left for Nohr, a lot of our forests were either wiped out by Grima or being chopped down to use in rebuilding what was… wiped out by Grima… I never really thought about that. People actually got to _rebuild_ this time.

That's when I can hear it. A low whinny from twenty paces away.

I look over my shoulder, seeing now that the others are basically out of sight. The _smart_ thing to do would be to turn around and not walk deeper into a forest filled with people trying to murder me by myself.

But instead I just keep walking over to the sound. My gut is telling me that I should look. So I do, I walk a bit deeper to find him.

A pegasus is tied to a towering oak tree. He's male, I can tell. His wings are broader and stretch past his hind legs. He's got a coat completely unlike the breeds we have back home. Ylissean mounts are pearl white, Feroxi are stone grey, and Plegian are pitch black. But this is… Oboro called this tint 'burnt sienna', I think. Dark reddish brown, like clay you'd dig up from the dirt.

His saddle is still on him, and I squee in delight before bolting over. His gaze follows me the entire way, never breaking contact. Ignoring the dumb horse, I start looking over the junk he has covering him.

Canteen, I open that and take a swig from it. A few carrots, a hot bun, a sandwich, another canteen filled with berry juice. Holy crap, Pinkie's got an appetite.

I find a logbook as well, flipping it open to reveal they're patrol notes. Nothing of use, so I just put it back. My hands go up and down as I pat the horse down for something else when my hand grazes near it's stomach.

Suddenly it just bucks away, kicking all over the place and smacking me square in the gut. I end up flying back onto the grass, dazed and confused while it just keeps kicking and running around the tree like a maypole. Even it's saddle gets loose and starts sagging off it's back.

Stupid. Freaking. Animals.

Every time I get near one of these things, this happens. They end up going insane, I get kicked in my gut or punted in the jaw. Like something's wrong with _me_ , like _I_ hurt them. I've never hurt an animal in my life! Sure I've killed a few bears, but I _ate those_. Hell half the time I used them to feed Morgan when she was still too young to get her own food.

And then, I see it. Turns out I'm not the reason why he's flipping out.

There's a stretched splotch of missing fur on his side, closer towards his stomach. Straight line, like a star streaking along his side. Its _scarred_ too, the skin's been broken. Which means that whatever hit it was strong enough to piece horse hide.

That's when my mind rolls back to what I saw on Pinkie's boots. I stagger while I stand up to my feet, clutching my gut as two and two become four.

"She uses _spurs_?" I say to myself, completely in disbelief. Slowly I'm stumbling back over to the mutt.

It has to be spurs. Pinkie didn't look like she's ever been in a fight, not with how she was dumb enough to try and headbutt me. And this jerky horse does have any scars. Hell, he looks like he was only recently broken in.

I carefully begin to pace back over to the horse, and it's facing me once more. Now it's mad, but I hold both of my hands up to show I'm not intending any more harm.

"Easy, I'm not gonna hurt you." I croon softly, remembering how Aunt Sumia used to calm the Pegassi in her personal stable. Be gentle, but honest. Putf away any negative feelings and hostility. Put yourself in the animal's place.

"I'm not gonna hurt you." I murmur in repetition, getting close. It's holding his ground now, staring deeper into me. Not at me, _into me_.

I've said it before, Pegassi are hyper attuned to people's emotions. But sometimes I swear they're actually psychic. It's like he's actively reading my mind, seeing what I'm thinking. He's even seeing what I'm not thinking, the stuff that's buried deep.

His eyes flash as I finally stand next to him, and I can tell he isn't impressed. He doesn't see me as a threat, but he sure as shit doesn't see me as an equal.

So I refit the saddle onto his back, try and make him seem like less of a mess. Pull the elixir from my hip and pour it onto the scar, gently rubbing it in. He starts kicking again, but it's aimed at the ground instead of my ribs this time.

More hoof-steps come from behind now, and I turn my head to see Subaki riding over in contemplation. His bow's slung over his shoulder as is normal now, spear's in a holster.

"I was about to go ride off for a healer." He began, moving off of his ground-bound mount and standing next to me. "Are you alright?"

"Better then when Corrin threw me off Camilla's ship." I murmur, trying to focus on my work. The pegasus is calm again now, at least. Elixir is numbing the pain, but with how deep the scarring is I'd need a staff to fix any of the real damage.

"I remember that. Hana and I couldn't believe you survived." He remembered grimly, stroking the snout of the new center of our attention.

A bit of context. Remember when I mentioned how I nearly killed Corrin? With the frozen ocean, the boats everything?

That was back when my liege was taking marching orders from Garon, the king of Nohr. The crazy guy who tried to have us genocide half a continent. He wanted us to kill his rebellious little step-kid, and set his daughter Camilla to do his dirty work. As her retainer, naturally, I came to help complete the mission. One of Corrin's retainers, Flora, stuck around with Nohr and agreed to help under… despicably Garon circumstances. _She_ froze the ocean, or the chunk of ocean that surrounded our ships. Things were going perfectly to plan.

But uh, he forgot to tell us something pretty important.

 **Corrin was a** _ **freaking**_ **Manakete.**

When I went after her she transformed, grabbed me in her massive fist and literally _threw me_ into the ocean. If I'd hit the ice, I would've spattered like a crab apple falling off a branch. I still almost died from hypothermia!

...Funny, that's also when I met Subaki. His Royal was healing me up and he was guarding her so I didn't try anything stupid. That really was a red letter day.

"Not everyone gets to brag about fighting _three_ dragons." I boast, standing up and pocketing the what little I have left of the healing tonic. Dumb hair pile is still giving me the stink eye, but at least now my conscience is clear. "Are you alright?"

"Isn't that how _I_ usually start our parlays?" Subaki asked, smirking cheekily down at me.

"I mean I could just make everything about me." I answer back, hands on my hips. "Seriously, are you alright?"

"Do I seem like I'm not alright?" He asks again. I'd call him out on his usual tells. The quicker blinking, the slowered breath. Just like when we were on the roof of Virion Keep. But I'd rather not tease him right now.

"I'd be a pretty terrible wife if I didn't check." I answer casually, choosing not to put him on the spot. It's up to him if he wants to tell me what's wrong, and he will. Unlike me, Subaki doesn't try to shield everyone from how he really feels.

Reading him like a book, he complies, moving close to me as he runs his hand along the pegasus' back. "When we get a chance, I want to talk about what we're doing after this."

"Hm?" I squeak in surprise. "What do you mean by that? Do you want to change our plans?"

"Moreso… I want to make an actual plan." He explains in more detail. "We said that we would go back to your homeland, but we never settled what we would do to live there."

...Oh

Oh crap. He's right.

From the moment we left, the only thing on my mind was getting back to Ylisse. I never thought about what we would do once we got there. I mean, I did. We'd visit my mother, have Caeldori meet her extended family. Check up on how this timeline's Morgan and Severa are doing, see Lucina and the others are handling themselves. But…

What were we going to do for food and gold? We can't just live on my Mother's charity, it'd be pathetic.

I wasn't going to go back to the Army, I've paid enough of my dues as a soldier. I could work in the castle, I guess but… what would I do... I've spent my entire life fighting. Do I even know how to do anything besides that? I want to, but I don't… crap…

"You haven't put much thought into it either I see." He admits, nervously smirking as he rubs the back of his neck.

"We'll figure it out. We always do, y'know?" I chime, now in a newfound panic about yet another major life decision I have down the line.

"I know we will." He muses, laughing wistfully. His eyes flicker again, he's got more to say. "I just hope that we deal with these people soon. It would be nice to spend some time with Caeldori, just the three of us."

"There's a hotspring in Chon'sin I know about~." I remember, swooning at the scramble we had up on top of that ice covered mountain. Ohhh, and the market there as well, _so_ many amazing outfits. The craftsmanship of the designs was totally sublime! I even brought five of their yukatas and kimonos with me on my interstellar trip.

"It's been quite a while since I've been in a hotspring…" Subaki admitted. "Chon'sin is to the south, though. How would we get there?"

"Boat, head along the coast. Then we can head to Ylisse from there." I take a step closer, placing a finger onto his chest.

"And, you should know…" I bring my voice down to a sultery, mischievous whisper, tracing small circles around his heart. "...They have mixed baths at that spring. You can even rent a private one for a few hours…"

Now he's getting the idea. Both his hands fall down and wrap around my waist, pressing us rather close. "Are you suggesting something _indecent_ , my dear Selena?" He teases in my shared tone, heat between us being shared.

"After months of having no privacy?"I pop up on my toes, speaking directly into his ear. " _Indecent_ doesn't even start to describe what I'm going to do when I get you alone."

Both of us stop breathing and look at one another, very obviously undressing ourselves with our eyes. It takes the stupid pegasus' wild crooning again to snap me back to reality, jumping up and out of my husband's hold.

"Gah! Stupid annoying-" I slug the thing right in the arse. "I swear to Naga I will _glue you!_ "

Oddly enough he doesn't seem to strike back. If anything he's looking at me with this smug, victorious aura. Oh my Gawds I hate this thing.

Now a third mount is coming towards us, dry leaves being trampled like a common carpet. Both of us look to see Caeldori riding over at full cantor, having Hinoka slide to a halt. She has her spear in hand now, and the look on her face tells me everything I need to know.

The reinforcements are here.

* * *

"I am **not** going with the healers again!"

Caeldori's already started losing her cool with me again. The forward sentries reported that a large wave of mercenaries were making their way over to us, and fast. Gwen was already getting everyone prepared for a defense of the camp, while Subaki and his troops were riding off with all the gear and back over the river. A bunch of horses wouldn't be very useful in treeline this thick.

"They can't defend themselves, you want me to send them back alone!?" I shoot back as everyone's running around us, getting into formations facing the south of the camp. A few voices are pretty exuberant, happy to take out some more people. Everyone else seems deathly quiet.

"Send Gwen! I can take her place and organize everyone!" She shoots back. "I'm a better tactician than she is anyway!"

" **I resent that, Looie!"** Gwen calls out from the front, her back facing us as she directs people around.

Ignoring the peanut gallery, we keep going back and forth. "I don't need a tactician, I need someone to keep them in line! There wasn't enough room with the cavalry, or else I'd have put them on there!"

"But what-"

"Caeldori." I growl. "What did I say before."

"What do-"

" **What. Did. I. Say?"**

"You wanted me to be ready before I fought with you." She recalls.

"Yes. And that was only an hour ago. Do you think that you've magically become more ready after an hour of gathering weapons? Well!?"

Her face goes blank as her mind tries to come up with a proper retort, but there's nothing. She's lost and she knows it, so she runs off to mount Hinoka without another word.

" **We'll be right behind you!"** I yell over, all of our healers grouping up behind her white stallion as they start back the way we came. Percy takes up the rear, giving our group one last look before running off to catch up.

I move to stand next to Gwen, drawing out my spyglass and checking the south. She keeps barking more orders into my ear while I scan the horizon. I can't see any animals moving at all, they've cleared out of this section entirely. Which means they'll be on us within a few minutes, for some reason squirrels are the best scouts you need.

" **Third platoon, take the right side! Form ranks and tighten up! Fourth, move to the rear and watch for stragglers! Fill any gaps!"**

I smile as I hear her rattle off my orders. My plan's simple enough. Hold here for a few minutes, bare the brunt of the first attack and try and break their momentum. Then while they're recoiling, Gwen sounds the horn and we break off. At a full sprint we should be able to make it to the river, and hopefully the Valentians will take the bait and pursue.

As I'm thinking, the first of the Valentians shows themselves. Mercenaires for sure, green outlining their tan uniforms. Green shields as well, simple short swords. They're moving in a large mob, weaving through the trees. Behind them I see the standard of their kingdom, the gold dragon looking especially menacing as it's riding high above this gaggle.

I notice it then. Their armor isn't tanned, it's actual leather. Stronger than the usual fabric most mercs wear. And their mob isn't even a mob, it's… small groups meshed together. Gives the impression of chaos while hiding their organization.

Mercenaries with leather. Iron swords. Slapdash formations…

 **Shit.**

" **Form up in a square!"** I call out, swapping my scope for my sword. " **Tighten up quickly, get around me and the Sergeant Major!"**

"Cap, what th'hell? I don't see any cavalry!" Gwen cries out as everyone starts to reposition around us.

"That's their sub-commander's personal guard!" I yell at her. "They're not gonna try and retake the camp, they want to split up the formation and kill us off piecemeal!"

"Mila's ears…" She curses out. "Shit, shit OK. What's the plan?"

"Have everyone form two ranks on each side. Shields up and lances couched." I then use my sword to gesture at our sides. "After they make contact with us, we'll have the platoons wrap around them and force them back. We can use the trees to funnel them!"

"You wanna _pincer'em?!_ They've got more people than us!"

"Just trust me and get everyone ready!" I yell again.

She aquieces and repeats my orders in a tone far, far louder than I could ever manage. Each side has two lines of people, the first one crouched down with their shields up. The second has their spears resting on the shoulders of their comrades at the front. All the jubilation of a fresh fight's long gone now, the only voices I hear now are either people yelling commands or people muttering their own last rites.

Gwen readies herself, her spear and shield close as we both watch the human tide pour closer and closer. Branches themselves seem to be washed away with the force of wind that sweeps behind them.

"Cap. I just want you tuh know, if I die? I'm gonna haunt you forever." She remarks snarkily. Sadly I don't share her indifference.

"If go down, make sure my husband and Caeldori are safe." I reply cooly. She grunts in the affirmative.

And with that, they're upon us.

Bodies collide together like two runaway market carts. Our line lurches back from the obscene pressure that comes from all of these people hitting one another. The sea of green and tan wraps around us, and our purple square soon becomes an island of safety among all this dangerous water.

I run to the line and start thrusting my rapier over the shoulder of the second rank, my blade getting it's second helping of red this time today. We're totally surrounded, none of the platoons can try and wrap around like this.

In my head I count the strikes. One, two, three, four, five. Again and again, the clashes of swords seem to ring like this in harmony against our shields. It's just Astra, over and over again. They're trying to wittle us down and break one of the lines.

But I remember what happened last time.

Another minute, and the lines buckle back even more. I see four of the people in purple fall to the ground, screaming as blades slip by their shields and into their bodies. I know what I have to do.

One. _**Shunk**_

Two. _**Shunk**_

Three. _**Shunk**_

Four. _**Shunk.**_

 _ **Five.**_

" **Everyone, PUSH!"** I bellow at the top of my lungs. Behind me Gwen parrots what I say in the same volume. Then the Sergeants, then the Corporals. Then even the normal troopers. All of us are yelling to push as we start shoving forwards. I'm even behind them shoving my boys and girls forward.

Our line breaks as we go out. The stormtroopers crumple over, falling onto the grass and stumbling back. Chaos ensues, and everyone rushes out from their formation. People grapple onto one another, throwing away their weapons and opting to slug punches. Individual duels break out, along with people double or even triple-teaming a single target.

I pierce out, blade at the ready as I hack and slash my way through the line. I don't stop moving, I can't. If I stop, they can recover. If they recover, they'll hurt my people. They'll get past me, they'll reach my family.

That is **not happening.**

My rapier slips right through the chest of one bastard, I rip it out and whip it around to slash open the throat of another one advancing to my side. A third person rushes me, I lower my shoulder and flip him over me, then turn around to drive my blade through his stomach. As I hear another person behind me, I send a kick back and force him into a stumble. My rapier tears up as I slice from his groin all the way to his chin, then push his still standing corpse to the ground.

Then I heart something behind me again, spin around, and lower my shoulder. A massive double-headed axe digs into the steel, denting it in and making fire shoot up my arm. I cry out as I go down onto a single knee, then stab my blade up to see it pierce into the arm-shield shield of my new opponent.

She has a crew cut and green hair. Full plate armor. Green and gold accents all over. We stare for the briefest of moments, recognizing one another.

Then, playing dirty, I let go of my sword and grab the collar of her armor, dragging her down to the ground. My hand wraps back around my blade and gravity lets it slip back out. Her axe gets dislodged as well, she doesn't let go of it on the way down.

I peel back a bit, keeping my eyes on her as I catch my breath. Moved too far too fast, I'm running myself haggard. Pops herself back up and lowers her shield at me.

"Damnable sellsword!" Beril snarls. "I thought I'd been rid of you in the scouting mission!"

"Sorry deary, you know how it is. I got a better offer." I quip back.

"How did the Duke manage to buy you off!?" She interrogates, as if there isn't a life and death battle going on all around us. "His nation's destitute compared to our coffers!"

I snigger and tap the Ylissean crest on my arm. "Sorry to tell you, sister. I'm not from Ferox."

"Wh-" She balks, identifying the Brand of the Exalt before growling like a feral animal. "Ylissean dogs. This has nothing to do with you meddlers! Leave Valentia to the Valentians!"

"Look around us, Miss Priss!" I lift both my hands and spin around, once again highlighting the carnage. "I don't think everyone on Valm's on board with your 'Walhart: Act Two' plan!"

"Never. _**Ever**_ **. Compare us to that** _ **monster!**_ " She roars, then charges me with her axe to bare.

Each of her strikes is quick and sharp. She isn't trying to just knock me off balance, she's refusing me to be on balance to begin with. It's taking everything I have to duck, dodge and block each of her strikes. Part of my pigtails nearly get cropped while I dive under her strike, then roll away from the follow up to jump back on my feet.

She has no opening either. Each time I'm ready to counter-attack, she seamlessly moves from one strike to the next. It's like trying to have a debate with Laurent, everything you try to say he already has the answer for before you even think of what to say yourself.

Well, this is a fight with sharp pointy weapons. Not words. I'm bad at metaphors, don't judge me!

As I back against a tree, she goes for the coup de gras. Her blade suddenly shines bright, and she lifts it up into a double handed smash. The blade slices through my shield and even digs through into my arm. I cry out in pain and lose my grip on my rapier, sliding down the tree.

My shield falls uselessly off my arm, and she brings her weapon back. As I'm sitting there I look up, and she brings the axe up.

"Any last words, traitor?" She forces out, looking at me with unfettered hatred. She's focused entirely on the head she's trying to claim. I'm more perceptive, and I can see the battle around us isn't matching the flow of our own fight at all. My people are winning, there's more green bodies on the ground than lavender.

But she still can't see that. I'm the center of her attention.

 **Good.**

I spit back, figuratively and literally. Hock a loogie right in her face. "Go screw a Wyvern."

Furiously she brings the weapon down at my head.

I roll to her side, my hand having moved to my back up dagger on my hip.

As the axehead splinters the tree's wood, I go on a knee and channel all my aura right into the blade. It shines as well, far brighter than Berils did right as I drive it right into her side.

She screams and stumbles away, hand shooting at her fresh wound. I stand up, small weapon still in hand as I feel the gash on my arm close up and the pain fade slightly.. My energy washes back, and she's looking at me like it's been drained from her.

"And **that,** is how you use Sol!" I yell in victory.

She's clutching the opening in exasperation, red pouring past the green metal. I hit something big, it's coming out fast even while she's putting pressure on it. Her head turns to survey the battlefield, and by now she can see that _her_ people are outnumbered.

"Didn't I warn you that your people couldn't handle even _basic_ counter attacks?" I taunt, going back to grab my rapier as both my hands now have a bladed weapon clear in their grasp. "I was actually trying to help back then! See where your pride gets you?"

She doesn't reply to me. Instead she grabs a horn and blows it, long and hard. All at once her people start peeling away, leaving their dead and dying behind while she turns to stumble.

If Morgan didn't tell me to stay put… damn it.

" **Sound off!"** I call around me as it seems we're in the clear. Somehow, most of us are still standing. Hell I barely even see anyone face down. Plenty of people trying to claw their way up, but I don't think there's many dead.

We're alive… we're alive.

Now we need to run.

* * *

 _ **A/N: This was probably my favorite chapter to write up to this point. Got to show off all three family members again, which will become more common the deeper we go in. Also the longest main chapter I've posted I think. Coming up next is the final chapter in the battle's first day, then I'll deliver on that Xenologue I mentioned.**_

 _ **By the way, I'm gonna be posting new story similar in the vein to Unforseen Concequences. This time it's gonna be a string of loosely connected oneshots I'll update whenever I'm feeling it. Upload schedule for my main stories is gonna remain the same... assuming I can stick to it for once.**_

 _ **Review responses!**_

 ** _otts486: You know how Sev is, she hates people who're full of themselves. Part of the origin of that is what she saw in her original timeline, people who have things stepping over those who don't so they can keep themselves safe. Smart of you catching the link to her father, more developments from that soon..._**

 ** _H. Uzumaki: Long time no see! Noted, this story is gonna be pretty beefy so that might be the best course of action._**

 _ **Marengo227: Thank you for the kind words. In truth I was worried about the amount of OCs I planned to include in this story, and those to come, but at the same time I wanted to give a proper feeling of how the world's changed since Grima was taken out and the trio's been gone. Best way to do that is through the eyes of people who've lived it. As for your formatting suggestion, I'll also take it into account. Both options have their merits and I'm not sold on either just yet.**_

 _ **See y'all next time!**_

 _ **o/**_


	24. C-20: Ductus Exemplo

This time, the aftermath was something out of a horror story.

Cries of the dying crawl into my skull and latch under my brain. Men and women are scraping across the forest floor, using whatever functioning arms and legs they still have to claw themselves around. The green grass and brown dirt is all gone, completely covered up by splattered sanguine and the colored uniforms of soldiers from both sides.

I have to avoid stumbling over the corpses as I walk back over to where we made out stand. There's a big square of emptiness surrounded by vast sea of broken bones and shattered forms. It's like… when you leave something outside during a snowstorm, then bring it back in. The place underneath is still clean and dry, as if it had just been a normal sunny day.

It's just like the old future. But now instead of dying to risen, we're just killing each other off.

I feel like the butt of some kind of cosmic joke.

But I don't have the time to be angry at my circumstances, right now I need to focus on surviving. If that last look Beril gave me is anything to go off of, she'll send another wave here. And there's not a chance in hell we'll last by the look of how exhausted everyone seems.

Like an idiot, I sent all the healers back early and didn't tell anyone to stick behind. But then again, I didn't expect them to send this many people in retaliation. There's at least fifty fresh Valentian green corpses here now, and I wouldn't be surprised if that many also managed to run away with their not so glorious leader.

I shake the cobwebs from my head, remembering where I am. Need to focus on the living, not the dead.

Plenty of my troops are still wavering around me, slogging through the same grim setting as they try to shuffle back into some kind of organization. Platoon leaders are yelling at the top of their lungs so they can get some kind of headcount done. A few men and women are wandering aimlessly through the slaughter, their eyes wide and hollow as they're clutching wounds. This isn't like when we sacked the camp, now they've seen what a real fight is like.

I sit myself down in the clean square patch surrounded by all the carnage, a hand rubs the wound that Beril's axe gouged into my arm. It's been a long time since I had to use Sol in a sword fight. Years, even. It's supposed to be my panic button, when I'm already hurt as hell and out of options. She made me draw on it so quickly… and with an axe, too. Supposed to win those fights easy.

' _Peace made you lose your edge.'_ The voice hums again. Wow, this thing is really Gods damned vocal today.

"Bite me." I mutter out loud.

' _You know I'm right.'_ It keeps crooning smugly, I can imagine a stupid _voice_ grinning ear to ear. ' _Corrin made you soooooft~. Camilla and Garon let you whack whoever you wanted, without any backlash. But no, you had to side with the_ _ **nice**_ _girl. And now you can't even kill one pissant.'_

As I expect at this point, my head starts banging again. I'm prepared enough to not make a show in front of anyone who can see, but the world goes blurry for a bit.

"I'm not a murderer." I hiss. "Dunno what the hell you are, or where you came from, but get _out of my head._ "

The voice just giggles back at me, echoing through my brain and out my ears before fluttering apart like a cloud of smoke. Just like that, the world gets its weight back and my vision becomes clear once again. Sound returns, and everyone's still yelling to get the company back in fighting shape.

My hand's burning again. But this time it's actually burning, the brand's pulsing brightly through my glove. As I feel a presence hover behind me, my hand goes to cover it once more, holding both mitts close to my chest.

From the corner of my eye I can see Gwen standing behind me, spear in hand and armor splattered with mud mixed with blood.

She's pale as a ghost. And she's looking right where I pulled my hands.

"If you're gonna stare like that, buy a girl dinner first." I reply, forcing a smile as I stand up. Arm feels really light now with my buckler missing, gonna need to replace that when we get to camp.

Gwen remains quiet, eyes focused on where she saw the purple flame. Once the feeling dies down and I'm sure the mark's hidden again, I lift up my hand and snap my fingers in her face. "Oi, earth to Gwen? Helloooo."

"Ten folks dead, basically e'ryone else is hurt." She speaks in a quiet, tiny voice. "What's wrong with your arm?"

I try not to breathe a sigh of relief. She's worried about my arm, good. Didn't see the flaming mark of evil that's on my body. One less thing to worry about.

"You should see the other guy." I joke, grinning nervously as I rub the wound once more. It's closed, the bleeding stopped, but by Naga it still smarts. "Can we move?"

"Sarn'ts say yes. Gonna need to carry some folks, don't think we can fight no more." She informs, turning on a heel and pointing back in the direction we came. "We move now, we might be able to catch up with the Looie."

"Really, we'll catch up to them when everyone's limping?" I answer with a bite, moving forward to stand at her side. I can feel her heat shift as she tenses up next to me. "Well we have to move now, that's for certain."

"Formation?" She mumbles, voice perking up a bit.

"Column, three rows a platoon. Critically wounded carried in the center." I answer. She grunts and turns around, walking off to start shouting off the fresh commands to those around us. Meanwhile I pull out my compass and stare off in the distance, where we need to flee.

We leave as soon as everyone's formed up.

* * *

My mind wanders back into the past while we march.

Not Valla, not my ruined world, but here again. Some time after I'd been found by the Shepherds.

I spent the next year with them on Valm. The Ylissean League cut from east to west, dodging through Walhart's main divisions and taking out chunks of soldiers. A good, long string of wins. Even managed to free Tiki from that tree of hers when she got put under protective guard. Ironic, the Valmese called themselves Naga worshipers but were more than willing to basically put her daughter in prison.

Then we started getting ready for Steiger.

I was sitting in my parents' tent, brush in hand as I cleaned up my hair. That morning we'd gotten rushed by a lot of Valmese cavaliers, and thanks to my stupidity I'd been trampled by one of the horses. Miss Lissa fixed me up fine, but for the rest of the day I hid myself away to avoid getting grilled by Lucina for my recklessness.

Mother was off in the sky, doing her usual patrols with Aunt Sumia and Cherche. Cynthia and Gerome had joined them for the first time, and even though he hid it the masked jerk seemed happy enough at the arrangement.

Father was in the tent with me, drafting new plans and moving placement pieces across his command board.

"If the mage companies focus their blast here…" He spoke aloud, as he had been for the past hour. "That should open up a hole large enough for the Shepherds to go in. Rest of the army holds to the south to intercept reinforcements, the Resistance pushes west through the forest..."

"Do you always talk to yourself?" I called out, huffing. Father just kept pushing the pieces around, making no physical note of acknowledging me. "If someone randomly walks in here they'll think you're nuts."

"Anyone who knows me already thinks I'm nuts, pumpkin." He answers back. "And yes, that includes your Mother."

"Oh great. My old man's a kook." I state with false approval, brushing my hair. It was still snow white back then, just like this. "You could at least try to act normal."

"Normal's overrated. Besides, I never really got a chance." He moves another piece, tapping his head. "Amnesia sort of messes up my bearings on what is and isn't normal."

I rolled my eyes, letting go of my hair so it fell down my back. Even then it felt weird that the Father I returned to didn't have the same past as the Father who raised me. "Don't give me that, it's been years since you lost your memories. You seriously expect me to believe you can't tell which is which still?"

"I dunno, you think it matters either way?" He answered, turning towards me to show off a full toothed smile.

I groan again, knowing that this discussion isn't going to go anywhere. It's not like he's some sort of exception to the pack, all of the adults were colorful in their own ways. Still was weird, especially considering in this world they were only about five years older than us. The people we grew up revering were now our peers.

And they were _not_ measuring up.

"What are you even doing?" I asked, hopping up and moving over to the vast table. A miniature of Steiger sat in the center, rooms reconstructed based on the plans Say'ri's spies had stolen a while back.

"Finalizing tomorrow's assault." He told me, stepping sideways so I could get a better view of the compound. By the looks of things, the main body of the force was going to surround the Fort. Our troops to the South, Feroxi to the North. Say'ri's personal guard would hold the east while the rest of the resistance would come from the west. "Any suggestions?"

"Why ask me? You're the genius tactician, I'm the brain dead grunt." I answered back, my Father wincing at the words. He hadn't gotten use to my manner of speaking just yet.

"Just asking for some peer review, is all." He explained.

"More like fishing for compliments." I huffed, but did as he asked, looking over each of the formations and placements.

Back then I still pretended to be disinterested in tactics. Morgan handled all of it for our group, and I actively wanted to distance myself from my parents as much as possible. I didn't want to be a Pegasus Knight, I didn't want to be a Tactician. Perfectly fine being a mercenary and just stabbing bad guys.

Didn't stop me from 'borrowing' Morgan's books from time to time, but I would never admit why to anyone.

Looking over the plan, it seemed to be almost foolproof. Took advantage of our smaller numbers so we could blitz the Fort before reinforcements came, then positioned everyone so they could withstand the reinforcements easily. A Company of Pegasus Knights were supposed to float around the battlefield, acting as a force multiplier. Missile troops were lining the perimeter to take out incoming wyverns, and armored knights were dug placed at hard-points in the line to blunt the counter-attack.

It was good. But not perfect, and I expected perfect.

"You know, I asked Lucina if you helped with planning in the future. She told me no." Father asked, leaning against the table with his back facing it. "Also told me you didn't like Pegasi much, why?"

"Because I'd rather drink boiling tar then follow in either of your footsteps."

"...Just a little bit extreme there, eh?"

I snort. Same reaction as her, no wonder they're attached at the hip. "I take it Mother will be with the Knights?" I see him shake his head out of the corner of my eye. "Makes sense, she'll be able to coordinate better from the rear-line."

"She'll be breaching the Fort with me and the rest of the Shepherds." He explains.

"...Excuse me?" I asked, not sure what he just said. It sounded like he was choosing to commit suicide.

"Cordelia, Cherche and Sumia are going to fly in from the top and take control of the Fort's courtyard." He turned about and jutted a finger into the middle of the miniature, a square opening in the dead center of the building. "Gerome and Cynthia stay high to provide top-cover. This way we cut off points of transit for the garrison and mitigate their numbers inside. Chrom's leading the rest of us into the command room."

"You're sending in the Exalt and the Queen too!?" I ask again, getting even more angry at the man as he keeps speaking this nonsense. "Are you completely daft?"

"We're the best soldiers in this Army and the only Company that can win against odds like this."

"That's not the point!" I yell back, beside myself. "He's the leader of the country! You're the head tactician! All four of you are way too important to use as a vanguard!"

"Someone has to do it Severa. What's the better alternative, send people who've got less of a chance to win to save our own hides?"

"That's the point of foot soldiers you **idiot** , they're expendable!" At this point I was pretty sure people around our tent were wondering why a girl was screeching like a banshee, but I was more concerned on straightening out this insane plan. "What the hell do you think happens to an Army when it's leadership _**dies!?**_ It falls apart! If this attack fails and you all die, **we're screwed!** "

"If this attack fails period, we're 'screwed'. Regardless of who's in it, we'll be cut off and surrounded long and far from our own supply lines." Father replied cooly, not lifting his voice at all. "And we've been over this, no one's expendable." He was frowning now, but he didn't seem upset with me. He never seemed upset with me, even when I deserved to get kicked to the street.

Still, I wasn't going to give him an inch. My fist slammed against the table, shaking the pieces and knocking some over. "You think you're going to win this stupid war with pretty ideals like that!? Every time you put yourself at risk like this, you're jeopardizing everything! They're going to try and **kill you, Dad!** "

"All due respect Severa, the way you've treated me and your Mother could make one think that's your preferred outcome." He shot back. Any opposition I had at that point was quickly replaced with shock, not believing what he'd just accused me of. The blood drained from my face and my words died in my mouth, the words on my tongue drying up into the air as I began to collapse in on myself.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, muttering something under his breath. "...I know the risks. But I've also done the math. This is the best chance we have." He points back to the corner of the Fort. "You and the other children are going to hold here and keep an escape route open for us though, just in case."

"W-why aren't we going to help?" I asked in a small voice.

He chuckled. "You're giving us an exit, that's pretty big help."

"That's not what I meant." I rattled back.

He chuckled again, softer this time. The man slipped one of his hands into the pockets of that tacky purple coat of his, the other one running through his ashen hair. His dark purple eyes shimmered, scanning the tent around us.

On his face was a soft smile, the same one I remembered running to whenever he came home from his work.

"I know. But you already know why."

* * *

It was slow, but we were getting there.

Marching seventy odd people through a winding forest wasn't as easy as you'd think, especially when you factored in how many of those people where currently bleeding or stumbling from recently acquired stab wounds.

The people who could still easily fight lined the outside of the formation, the deeper into the column you went the more wounded the soldier was. In the center of each group were two or three people being carried off the ground and on the shoulders of the able bodied. Before we left, we stabilized everyone we could.

I kept going back and forth from the front to the rear of the column. In my head I kept a mental check of how everyone was doing. People were groaning in pain, the more critical were passing in and out of consciousness. We needed to get back to our lines fast or else some of these people weren't going to wake back up.

All the while Gwen stayed at the front, looking at me over her shoulder.

At the rear column I heard a man cough coarsely, then pat at his side to draw out his canteen. When he went to drink from the thing, no water dripped out, and he resigned to let it hang back at his hip.

When I went over to him, offering what was left in my own, he gingerly took it in his hand. One look at his face made me realize who it was.

Vincent, the pretty boy.

The kid's face was now marred with scratches and dirt. The tunic of his uniform was torn open, the chainmail underneath clear for all to see. And his eyes… Gods, he wasn't even the same person anymore. They looked so hopeless and hollow, as if he'd seen the world end.

He takes a long drink, then handed it back without a word. Jitters a bit from the coffee, but he seems grateful. I pat his shoulder, giving him a reassuring smile. We say no words, but he nods and keeps pace with the others.

Meanwhile I fall behind a bit, turning around to see what we've left behind us. The trail is so obvious, a blind man could follow. Broken branches and twigs, trampled leafs and grass. We snuck into this blasted forest, now we're hobbling out. It was supposed to be a simple raid, quick and clean. But I'd gotten greedy and didn't pull out, thought I could do more damage.

Failure. It feels like total failure. I said I'd get them all through this, and on our first mission I get ten of them killed and the rest maimed. Guess I'm not cut out for this leadership stuff after all.

Crunching behind me gives way to Gwen standing to my side again, the green haired hellion rolling her neck as her spear remains slung over her shoulder. I sigh again, Gods I'm turning into mother even more now, and glance her way. "You mind? I need a second."

"Just reportin'." She casually answers, seemingly back to her usual self. Even has that dumb smirk. "Judgin' from the marks we left on the trees comin' in, river's only twenty minutes out."

"And the wounded?"

"They'll live." She answers, drumming her hand against the shield now hanging at her hip. "Sent one of the boys forward at a run to make sure we've got a welcome wagon, didn't think you'd mind."

"Whaddya know, there's a brain behind all that sass." I chip, still scanning the forest with my spyglass.

"I ain't all just good looks and charm. Gotta get the guys and gals somehow." I can feel her shift a bit, opening my other eye to see her hand rest on her short-sword. Normally something I wouldn't pay mind to, but considering how weird she's been acting…

We stand there in silence for a little while. The tension is thick, and it isn't even the fun kind.

"...Gwen, do we need to talk?" I ask, still making a show with my surveying.

I can see her smirk grow. "I dunno, Cap. Do we?"

Playing dumb. Yeah, not happening. I retract my spyglass again and put both hands on my hip as we stand there in silence. The column is still in earshot if one of us yells, but by now they've already gone ahead out of our view.

"...You know I'll win." I point out, not moving to my own sword or dagger hanging off my hip.

"I ain't so sure." She replies. "Said yourself I can take more licks than most castles."

"Gwen, you've seen me fight. I can take on five Valentians on my own and come out without a scratch, now **imagine** what I can do to you." As I threaten the person who's supposed to be my ally, her smirk falls apart as she seems to believe my bluff. "So do yourself a favor, let go of the sword, and I'll forget this whole thing."

She's hesitating, weighing the options in her head. Hand's still holding the hilt of her sword. I don't move an inch, because I genuinely don't want to lay a hand on her.

' _She knows too much.'_ The voice echoes at the worst possible time, along with its usual head piercing migraine. ' _Just kill her off and run back, we can say the Valentians are catching up and get away scot free.'_

' _Is your answer to every problem murder!?'_ I think-scream back.

' _Worked fine for us with the Risen.'_ It chimes back.

' _She isn't a Risen, she's a person! She's my friend!'_

' _She's planning to_ _ **stab you!**_ ' It rails back at me. ' _Do you really want to put your family at risk because of your dead Father and his idiotic morals!?'_

' _Don't you dare-'_

' _What? You know I'm right! Stop trying to be Daddy's little angel and just slot this bitch!'_

"You can't be Grimleal." Gwen says, dragging me back out of my internal debate and into the real world. "They're evil. They _kill_ folks. _Rape people_ , burn down homes, enslave kids and turn'em into psychopaths."

"You trying to convince me or yourself?" I ask with a deadpan stare, resigning my fate.

"You're… you said you was a Ylissean noble lady." She keeps rambling on, not giving me a response to my question. "Tell me you ain't one of'em."

I huff, laughing in disbelief at the show the woman's putting up in front of me. Gwen is less than amused, and for the first time since I've met the woman she totally loses her cool.

" **Tell me you ain't on of'em Miss Severa!"** The soldier roars with all her might, the sound of her short sword jiggling around in the sheath punctuating her words. " **I ain't lettin' you go back until you say so!"**

"I'm not a murdering rape-pillager." I say in a steady voice, pushing down my internal screams of panic and fear as far as they go. If I look nervous at all, she'll skewer me and I couldn't blame her for a moment.

"You're normal." She says. "You ain't gonna hurt our people."

I shake my head, reaffirming my stance. "I don't want to hurt anyone. Only reason why I'm here is to help you out anyway."

Gwen, finally, lifts her hand away from her blade. Both her hands go over her chest as she takes in a long, deep breath. The spear-woman regains her usual composure, the outburst from before already losing any trace on her form.

"I wanna trust you, Cap." She says. "You done right by me, that ain't something I can say 'bout most people."

I snort, both hands going on my hip. "Thanks, I guess."

"Seriously. You're… nice, under all that yellin'." Gwen explained. "But e'ry nice person I known's either died on me or was just playin' me like a fiddle."

Grumbling, I look back out to the horizon where we came from.

This entire place, even Roseanne, seems stuck in this stupid cycle of fighting. If what Gwen's told me is anything to go by, life for the average person here hasn't gotten any better since Grima. If anything it's gotten worse, now instead of one monolithic jerk ruling over a blood drenched empire it's a bunch of squabbling morons pulling everything apart at the seems.

Oh, and the Risen. I still haven't found out the cause of those things.

Then there's that last outburst Beril said when we were fighting.

She took comparison to Walhart as an insult. But, they're trying to do the same thing he did. Heck her uncle even wants to invade my home, just like Lobster Lord. They're the same, right? If they're the same, why did she go bezerk?

When we get back, I need to find Virion. Sit down and have him tell me what happened after I left, because I'm sick of floating around. Just like that hat bobbing up and down in the bru-

Wait. Hat in the brush. Mage hat. What.

 **What!?**

I squint and lean forward using my hand to block the sun's glare to make sure I'm not seeing things. The hat doesn't go away, it multiplies. And they're getting closer.

I turn around and rush into the brush behind us, grabbing Gwen's collar and dragging her along for the ride. Both of us hit the dirt and sprawl ourselves out, slipping underneath a large tree's sprawling roots. I cover her mouth up quickly, lifting a finger to signal silence.

In a minute, crunching footsteps begin to move by us. Both of us huddle close to the opening to look outside to see boots traipse pass, flowing robes hanging off the soldiers' backs as they stop. Ten, fifteen, twenty pairs of them walking. None of them stopping at all, they're too focused on following the trail that we've so clearly left.

I can hear a few snippets of discussion between some people. Most of it is complaining about the walk, but a few of them are seething over the attacks in the woods. Not just ours, but the rest of the Army. Morgan sent fifteen different groups in to prod at the Valentian camps. And judging from the sound of things, it hasn't been going well for our targets.

I'll admit it, I'm smiling despite the circumstances. Gotta look on the bright side of things.

But now they're on the hunt. I can hear a strong male voice yelling atop a set of what's clearly horses hoofs. " **Keep moving you louts! We won't catch the dastards if you laze about like a bunch of Shuriman Minstrels!"**

Shit

At the rate they're going, there's a good chance they'll attack everyone right as they're crossing the river. Everyone would be stuck in waist deep water, trudging through with the wounded on their shoulders and backs. Unable to move, certainly unable to fight back.

It'd be a massacre.

"Run back to the line and get them to double-time it." I order, drawing out my dagger. Plenty of time to catch up with a wounded, limping group.

"Right behind ya." She says, drawing her weapon and shield up. I shake my head, jutting my thumb behind me.

My head shake. "You go. Both of us aren't going to be able to sneak through this."

"And what in th' name of Naga, Mila and Duma are you gonna do?" She asks, out of breath.

"Improvise. Gotta buy you some breathing room."

"You mean get yourself killed." She answers cheekly, grinning my way. "Didn't peg ya for the martyr type Cap."

"Gawds, please don't call me that." I squirm under the label, scowling at her. "Makes me think I might actually die here."

"No one lives forever, Cap." She whispers back, trying not to laugh as I shift uncomfortably. Still, she does as I say and pokes her head out the opposite end of the hiding place. After a bit, she dashes out and away to the first tree.

And now I'm alone. What was my plan again?

Gotta distract one of them. Sound? No, if more than one comes to investigate I'm gonna get burned alive. Or shocked to death. Or cut apart by wind magic. Why is combat magic so disturbingly disfiguring?

Could use a lure. But I don't really have anything that'd _be_ a good lure.

Sneak out and pick someone off? No, no. I'd get spotted in a heartbeat.

Come on Sev, think. Think! What would Dad do!? There's lives on the line you stupid girl! For once in your life, don't screw something up when you have people depending on-

A pair of feet walk over to the hole I'm looking out from. I hear the man above yelling something indiscriminate, facing the trunk of the tree as he swayed on his feet. After that, I could hear him fumbling with some fabric.

Then a trickle of liquid came down, and started sliding towards me.

Ew. Ew ew ew ew _**EW GET AWAY.**_

I jump back and tumble from the edge, sliding back deeper into the hole that we'd been hiding in so I can get as far away from the stream of piss as possible. Gawds, I almost got tinkled on. No, not in a million years. I'd rather die then let that happen.

So gross, so disgusting. Oh Gawds the **smell** too.

"Huh?"

The tinkler said that, right as my rear thumps at the bottom of the hole. The stream stops, and I can hear him moving again. I start to creep back up the side of the hole, avoiding the moist parts of the dirt.

As I reach the top, his head pops in and looks straight at me. Both of us blink, not believing what we're seeing.

Well, this works.

I throw a punch into the man's face, then grab him by the collar and drag him in under the tree with me. Both of us tumble down, wrestling and smacking each other on the way. When we hit the bottom, I just keep punching him over and over again. Before long his head lolls back, consciousness lost.

I pat him down until I find the tome hanging from his hip. A red book with a golden flame burned into the front. Flipping it open, I can see that it hasn't even been used yet. The green text is still shimmering brightly on the first page.

Fire tome. Useless, this stuff doesn't make a bang at all. Just a fireball and some smoke.

Unless…

Damn it. I didn't wanna have to use this today.

I sheath my dagger and draw out my right hand, concentrating before it bursts into purple. It's cool and deep, like when you dunk your hand in a water pale and let it sit for a while. Soon it starts seeping in, soaked into the muscle and bone.

' _So_ now _you're gonna kill people.'_ The voice chirps.

"Oh stuff it." I hiss, clawing my way out from the hole and back to the entrance.

As I stumble out I can see the mass of green and gold shuffling off towards the river, backs towards me. I take in a deep breath and flip open the book, tapping my foot as I count the paces.

My eyes land to the left of the blob. Big tree there, perfect for splitting them in half.

OK. OK Severa, you can do this. Who cares if it's been basically seven years since you used a tome?

Who cares if the last time you tried this, you almost burned down the Shepherd barracks? It turned out fine, Inigo put the fire out. Sure, one of the rooms was completely ruined and I had to threaten him so he didn't tell anyone, but it worked out. And this'll work out too! It'll work out perfectly. _Perfectly._

Oh Gods what am I even doing.

I lift up my hand and aim the palm at my target, imagining the words in my mind as best as I can remember. Focus, if Owain can throw spells so can you. Breath in, imagine a pipe of water flowing through you. The book's the faucet, let it open the flow and blast out of your hand.

Come on, come on…

The heat's building and rising. The red, yellow and orange flame bursts in the palm of my hand and starts to swell. Almost there, now just… activate Ignis…

Purple starts increasing the orange, then jumps on it and starts swallowing the other colors alive. I'm not kidding, it's like a bear gulping down a squirrel. Soon they both start violently swirling around, the fireball's growing big. Really big.

It's bigger than my hand. It's bigger than my _freaking hand._

Shoot, **shoot!**

With a deafening crack and boom, the blast snaps away from my hand and careens right where I aimed. The people in the rear turn around to see me standing right in the middle of the path, and start to ready their own spells.

Then, the explosion.

Instead of knocking the tree over into the group, the tall redwood gets blown away in the opposite direction. The fireball quintuples in size, it's as big as **Minerva** when it goes off.

A bunch of mages fly off to the side, thrown by the shock wave and covered in the blaze. Everyone gets knocked over or staggered. People are screaming, the grass is on fire, smoke's clogging up the air.

The tome completely disintegrates in my hand, falling to a pile of ash through my fingers.

I start to run.

I jump over a singed man as he tries to stand back up, half his body blackened.

I swerve between a Sage holding a healing staff and his patient, shoving him to the ground.

I draw my sword and slice through another mage as he tries to ready his tome, he falls over screaming in pain as he clutches where his hand used to be.

I ignore the calls for alarm behind me. "Over there, she's over there!" They say. I run through the panic. Dodging under branches and over roots as I follow the trail.

Then they start firing back.

First a few fireballs go over my head, smashing into tree bark and splintering onto my hair.

A bolt of lightning zooms to my side, cracking into a bush and setting it ablaze. My sleeve catches fire from the glace, and I have to start smacking it wildly as I keep going.

Darkness covers the whole forest, the sun's completely choked out by the smoke and ash.

But I'm still running. I can barely breath, my eyes feel like a thousand needles are getting jabbed into them.

A pillar of lava lifts out in front of me, and I turn behind to see what was probably the man barking orders before trying to ride me down on his horse. Tall collar, steel helmet, plate mail armor. A Dark Knight. I'm not going to win a fight against that, not when I'm beyond tired and running on empty.

So I just keep running and ignore the thundering hooves behind me. Keep trying to use the trees, brush and overgrowth to slow him down. Hop back and forth, duck under a low hanging branch.

I look behind again, and he's undeterred. He's even closer now.

In the front, the river lays ahead bathed in sunlight. The wounded are already being carted across, but I can see a larger group of those still standing running back towards the forest and towards me. At the front is Caeldori, her steed ground-bound as it gallops in my direction. Behind her Gwen and a mob of our Company rush back.

 **THUMP**

My head snaps forward as something cracks the base of my skull. I crumple to the ground, rolling into a pathetic heap as the Knight stops in front of me.

It feels so warm and wet, whatever's dripping down the back of my neck. Everything starts going fuzzy as I stare up at the rider.

"Vile witch." He jeers. More footsteps now, more of his mages surround me as they start taking up positions. Spells start getting slung towards the river, cracks and roars of thunder and fire singing together in chorus.

Behind him I can see the strikes hit. Lavender clad soldiers fly as they're struck. Holes in their chest form as spells pierce through them. My people, the ones I'm supposed to protect, they all fall to pieces as they're trying to save **me.**

Caeldori turns to rally them. A blast of flame strikes her square in the back. Her scream pierces through everything.

The fighting, the forest, the whole world.

Everything shakes with my daughter's cries of agony as the fire consumes her.

She flies off Hinoka, collapsing into a heap as her charred uniform curls up in smoke. The Pegasus quickly curls around and jumps in front of her, trying to shield it's fallen partner. Gwen and the rest of the soldiers step forward, locking shields and dragging her back.

I lay there, reaching out towards her. The man towers above me, paying no mind as he gives orders to the mages to start launching more organized vollies.

I just keep reaching. My hand tries to get closer, but it can't. My mind just keeps repeating her name. 'Caeldori, Caeldori, Caeldori.'

The formation starts pulling away. Everyone tries to retreat back over the river. My sight of her fades, and I'm left to keep grasping at the memory.

Caeldori, Caeldori, Caeldori.

My sweet, innocent baby girl. I'm sorry I ever brought you here.

The smog pours over me. Darkness starts to cloud my senses once more. Nose is clogged, mouth is choked. Sound becomes duller, as my hand falls back to the ground.

My entire world dies, burned to ash.

* * *

 _ **A/N: And that ends the Battle of Alsace. Well, part one.**_

 _ **Next time, that Xenologue I mentioned God knows how long ago.**_

 _ **o/**_


	25. X-2: Master and Commander II

"Mommy? Mommy! Wake up!"

Cordelia groaned in her bed as her youngest daughter pulled at the hem of her nightgown. The soldier lolled about, rolling towards the center of the bed and out of the grasp of her caller. As the voice continued to try and rouse her, the Commander's reply was to merely grabbed one of her pillows and cover her own head. Effectively deafening herself to the world.

A good night's sleep was something she rarely got to indulge herself in. Most of her days she found herself finding refuge in a lumpy bed within the Pegasus Knights' barracks. She had to block out the sounds of other knights chattering away through the night, patrolling the halls or having their own midnight rendezvous. That, and the moment anything went wrong, someone would rap their knuckles on the door and force her from her dreams and back into reality.

Tiresome, tiresome reality.

These nights home were a treat that Cordelia cherished, even if it was of her own accord she spent so much time in the castle. Work never seemed to end, and any time she took away from the stack of papers in her office allowed it to quadruple overnight. Something that was sure to happen when she returned tomorrow as well, but that could be dealt with on her arrival.

She was able to spend time with her children, and that was enough for it to be worth it. The younger Severa and Morgan had both been waiting anxiously at the door once word came that their mother was returning.

To the outside world, their events had seemed droll and without note. But to her they were everything she could have ever asked for. Having Severa and Morgan in her arms made all the work and stress she put herself through worth it. She knew it was all to keep them safe, fed and happy.

That being said, she was allowed to be a bit selfish. Another half-hour in the sack wouldn't hurt anyone.

Little Morgan wasn't inclined to allow that. Not happy with being ignored, the girl decided to mount the bed and pounce upon her parent. She sat herself on top of Cordelia's stomach, giggling madly as all the breath was knocked out of her mother.

"Mommy! Come on, wake up!" Morgan continued to cry, bouncing up and down. Each movement sent a jolt of pain up Cordelia's form. The girl was surprisingly good at keeping her pinned down in place.

Begrudgingly, Cordelia sat up and stared at her mischievous child. Morgan was still smiling brightly at her, unaware of her actions. "What…" Cordelia yawned, blinking a few times as the world returned into full color. "What's wrong, Morgan?"

"It's breakfast time!" Morgan exclaimed, hopping off the bed and tugging at her mother's arm with gusto. "Severa's making flapjacks! Come on, come oooooon!"

' _A ten year old trying to cook. There is no way this will end well.'_ Cordelia thought to herself, internally screaming at the mess she probably had waiting for her downstairs. Externally she smiled at Morgan, letting herself get pulled from the bed and down the stairs

The kitchen was as she expected it to look like; a warzone. Batter, flower, eggs and syrup caked the table and stovetop, with little Severa furiously trying to make the ingredients mix together by sheer force of will alone.

Thankfully it was also around that time that the maid arrived. And Cordelia was allowed to focus on cleaning up her amateur chef while the servant came up with something edible.

"I almost had it!" Severa protested as Cordelia kept wiping her face away with a towel, removing the final splotches of egg and flower from her cheeks. "Five more minutes and they would've been ready!"

"And I'm sure it would have been the most delicious meal I ever had." Cordelia hummed as she finished up, smirking as she corrected a few loose strands of hair that covered her blonde daughter's eyes. "But next time, I want you to ask permission before. That way I can get everything you need before hand. Then you, me and Morgan get to make a big stack together, alright?"

"OK…" Severa aquessed, pouting as Cordelia pinched both of the child's cheeks. In the other room, Morgan could be heard happily chattering away with their maid as she tried to salvage what food was left in the pantry into a proper meal.

"Good." Cordelia confirmed, inspecting the small girl. She looked just like the older Severa, if not a bit more childlike in appearance. Shorter, more rounded features. Same murky purple eyes as her father, same platinum blonde hair, same pale skin. Somehow, even though they'd grown up in different worlds, she even shared the same competitive spirit.

Not the same hairstyle, though.

"You're wearing your hair down again." Cordelia noted, the girl letting her length of hair flow freely over her shoulders. "What happened to your pony tails? Did you lose your bows?"

Severa's face tinged red at the remark, looking down at the floor to avert her eyes. Cordelia chuckled, bringing her daughter close. "It looks wonderful either way, dear." She said, softly pecking the her forehead. Severa grumbled something into Cordelia's shoulder, but it was too muffled to make out.

"What was that?" Cordelia asked, pulling back and looking inquisitively at the girl.

"I'm trying to make it look like yours." Severa answered in embarrassment. Her mother's face lit up with that admittance, as if she had just won a hundred gold coins. When fresh knocks came from the front door once more, she almost didn't notice.

Cordelia frowned, not expecting anyone else to arrive that day. Sure, she was due to leave for Valm within the next few weeks, but that was still being planned.

She beckoned Severa away back into the kitchen, then grabbed a red shawl and wrapped it about herself, covering her upper body and opening the door.

The sound of the Ylisstol's outskirts greeted her. Soft chirps from birds fluttering around the house, a farmer's cart creaking as it went up the road towards the city's gate. The sun hung in the sky, some time around nine in the morn. Green grass covered the ground and filled the nose. A few other homes dotted the roadway, persons leaving them and going out to do the day's work.

She was greeted by one of her subordinates, the same Sergeant from that day a few weeks prior. The woman was in full regalia as well, armored up in her Falcon Knight uniform from head to toe. The only missing piece was her spear, substituted for a short-sword that hung from her hip.

"Natalia." Cordelia asked, opening the door further. Dread washed over her as she realized why she was here. "I'm guessing this isn't a social call."

"You know how I feel about being surrounded by commoners." The Sergeant grumbled begrudgingly. Natalia twitched as a fly landed on her shoulder, shooing it away as if the thing was diseased. "Remind me again why a Viscountess lives amongst uncivilized rabble?"

"Because most people don't know, nor care, what a Viscountess is." The Captain answered as her mood soured even further. She wasn't fond of people insulting her home, or her neighbors. But the woman before her came from an ancient family, one that still believed in the old order of things. The very idea of a noble living in an estate such as hers was unthinkable to them. "What's the matter now?"

The Sergeant slipped a hand under the breastplate of her armor, removing a letter and presenting it to her leader. A fine parchment with the seal of the Exalt stamping it shut. "They told me to run this to you as soon as I could." Natalia began to explain as Cordelia jimmied the letter open. "I know you instructed us to leave you be for the day, but Sir Frederick insisted that it was urgent."

Cordelia remained silent as she inspected the letter, reading it over again as she kept a neutral face. Chrom and Sumia were summoning her for a counsel session. The letter was penned by Sumia, and judging by the frantic handwriting the event as rattling her best friend's nerves. Odd, considering the Queen seemed rather at peace with the matters of court these days.

"Dare I ask why they made me come all the way out here?" Natalia questioned as she grew more impatient, slapping another fly as it landed on her neck.

The Captain sighed and folded the letter back together, looking forlornly over her shoulder as the shouts of her children could be heard as they got ready for their food. "Always at the worst times…" She said to herself, shaking away the cobwebs in her mind before looking back at the messenger. "I'm being summoned. Likely something about her Majesty's diplomatic mission."

"Perhaps another report has come from your cousin? You've been away from your office." Natalia pondered, evoking the older Morgan's faked relation to Cordelia. "But if that's the case, I'd like to escort you back."

Cordelia resigned herself to her fate, nodding as she walked back through the door and into the main foyer of her home. As the voices of her daughters continued to dance into her mind, she couldn't stop herself from cursing her oh so benevolent Lord and Lady for doing this to her. Sumia was the one who insisted she took more time off to begin with, and now she was robbing her of it.

Whatever this was for better be good. She absolutely hated politics.

* * *

The pair made their way into Ylisstol without any event. Cordelia ordered a quick detour before reaching the palace, opting to go to the Pegasus Knight compound so she could get into a proper uniform instead of the casual long collared vest she wore.

She didn't like the uniform that Dark Fliers were issued. It made her feel vulnerable, not having a chest piece to guard herself from the world. Their outfits were made to remain light and arcanely conductive, with the intent that they stayed in the rear to lob death from afar. But it meant if an archer pushed themselves into range, they were even more vulnerable than a standard knight.

The colors didn't help either. Blue, grey and brown As if she had been dragged through a swamp and didn't have time to clean herself. It felt beyond ghastly, similar to the scheme worn by Plegian dark mages.

Why did the others enjoy these dark, drab, lifeless pallets?

So instead, she opted to wear something more ceremonial. The outfit as a whole resembled something more of Natalia's Falcon Knight attire. Long brown stilted riding boots, with free flowing white trousers. Golden gaiter shields on each hip, with a pair of belts going around her waist. A white aired uniform shirt, red lining her sides up to her arms. Finally a polished golden chestplate with a red ribbon pinned across encased her, pointed shoulder plates and a popped white collar finishing the outfit.

It was a good look on her. At least that's why she figured people were staring as she marched through the halls of the palace. The halls were silent and hallowed as she marched, the only sound being her feet hitting the stone and her arcthunder tome slapping against her side as it hung from her belt.

Traversing the large palace took some time, but eventually she reached the door to the Senatorial chamber. And judging from the lack of yelling inside, the debate wasn't underway.

So she ducked inside and kept her head low, not making eye contact with any of the nobles. She ignores the few platitudes that a few of the men try to extend, opting to make her way up the forum's stands and sit in the rear line out of the spotlight. A few more mumbled hellos, ones that she softly answers before she begins to scan the room itself.

The Senate was an oblong room, with high seats forming a nearly complete oval. Five rows of seats rose along the shape. In the center was a small, rectangular podium, used by whomever was speaking to present whatever they wished to their peers. At the head of the circle, where the two edges of the stand almost met, sat a large booth. Blue, regal and ornate. The brand of the Exalt hanging on a tapestry as two thrones sat unoccupied.

Seating reflected the hierarchy of power within the Halidom. Merchants, business owners, junior officers and others of common or lesser birth. Then came the middling nobles, ones with larger estates and funds, legacies that stretched back to the start of the nation. Finally the Lords, Ladies and Clergy; those who helped run the nation itself under the royal family.

Cordelia grumbled softly to herself. The royal family. Everyone takes orders from the House Lowell. Even if it cost them everything. Just like it had her husband.

"You're in the wrong seat Cord."

Cordelia almost jumped from her seat as she looked to her left and right. Two people had found themselves sitting at her sides. The woman to her right grinned, laughing loudly as she rested back on the bench. The man on her left leaned forwards, offering a gentle smile along with a red fruit that was in his hand. Both wore paladin armor, one red and one green.

"You gonna just stare at it, sky-girl?" The red woman asked her.

"She might not be hungry." The green man pondered, shrugging as he pulled the apple back away and prepared to bite from it. Cordelia smirked, snatching the apple from his grasp and taking a bite from it.

"Ha! So much for that third snack, eh Stahl?" The woman crooned. In response, her gift giver removed another apple from his satchel and took a large chomp out of it.

"Stahl, Sully, you both should know better than to be so loud in a formal setting." Cordelia nagged as she took another bite of the fruit, savoring the sweetness as it came down.

"Oh gimmie a break. You know how much we all hate these stuffy meetings anyway." Sully answered, not lowering her voice in the slightest. A man in the row in front of them turned around to narrow his eyes, but Sully matched his glare with one of her own. Judging his chances against the muscle-bound soldier, he turned around at a moment's notice.

"I think that-" Stahl paused, gulping down his own bite. "-goes for all of us." He comments, before grinning at his friend once more. "Seriously though, you know you're supposed to sit in the second section right?"

Cordelia chuckled, shaking her head as she sat upright. Now that the room began to fill out, her posture corrected itself into something more presentable. "In this room, we're to be amongst our peers. I would think that as Shepherds we're one another's peers, no?"

Sully snorted. "Please, it's been years since we've been Shepherds. We've all got real jobs now, the Captain included."

Cordelia shrugged, but maintained her happy disposition. "How is the army life, anyway? I haven't spoken to either of you in so long now."

"Well I can't complain." Stahl admits. "Pay's nice, and I get a lotta free time down south."

"Speak for yourself." Sully grumbled. "Of course I got put up north, dealing with people coming from Ferox and getting into fistfights every other night. I shouldn't be playing constable, I'm a cavalry commander for cryin' out loud!"

"The Feroxi soldiers guarding the Longfort don't do anything to stop them?" Cordelia asked curiously.

Again, Sully snorted. Harsher this time, her eyes burning as she recalled their so called friends to the north. "Raimi's more stubborn than I am, and that's saying something. Her people _never_ leave that wall, I swear. The one time I ride over to get some help, she served me a pile of schlock about how they can't 'leave their post to deal with Ylissean problems'."

The Knight-Captain tutted at the news, remaining silent as Stahl re-entered the discussion. "Well, you're here now at least. And you get to see you know who…" He teased. Sully, turning a shade redder than her armor, looked away as her eyes began to try and spot her hidden husband.

Moving to the defense of her sister in arms, Cordelia turned to look at Stahl with a sweet smile. Very similar to the one she wore just before scolding them. "And tell me, Stahl. How is Tharja? Still has you wrapped around her finger with those hexes?"

Stahl sputtered, almost choking on his food as the words sent shivers down his spine. Sully in contrast began laughing heartily, clutching her abdomen as she did everything in her power to not topple sideways.

A few more eyes turned to look at the odd trio. One set coming from the hierarch, a long haired blonde Monk as he smiled in mirth at the group.

Another pair came from the very front row facing opposite of them. One young man with a large mage's hat failing to stop his snickering. The woman with curled drills and a Valkyrie's dress shooting them all a murderous gaze.

Sully, Stahl and Cordelia all withered away under the intent, promptly straightening themselves up, preferring not to be blown away by the tome wielding noblewoman.

"Good to see Maribelle's as no nonsense as ever." Stahl drolled, fear dripping off each syllable.

"She's gotten worse. I didn't even think that was possible." Sully protested in a hushed voice, eyeing the blue-blooded woman as she then proceeded to smack her own husband's arm.

"Well, she is Duchess of Themis now." Cordelia commented.

"She's only been Duchess for two weeks, come on!" Sully insisted.

"Keep your voice down, I'm pretty sure she's armed." Stahl pointed out.

Cordelia offered Stahl a deadpanned expression. "She has a parasol."

"You haven't seen her use that thing enough." Stahl recalled with a shudder. "Remember, back in Plegia when we were going after Gangrel that last time? The guy with the axe?"

"She did that with her freakin' umbrella?" Sully asked in disbelief. "Bullsh-"

"Language." Cordelia chastised. Sully groaned once more as she slumped back in her chair. Meanwhile Stahl continued the discussion point that Cordelia had brought up before.

Then the royals walked in, and all others in the chamber rose.

* * *

...Had that all really been a month ago?

She should have predicted this. The moment her Sergeant handed over that letter, dread flowed all over her being. Her life was about to be upheaved all over again, just as she'd finally settled into a normal life. When she'd finally gotten used to be a mother, not just a soldier.

But that meeting changed everything. The world was falling apart all over again.

Reports had poured in from all over the globe. Ferox had now devolved into a full blown Civil War, with varying Warlords in the north vying over the throne of West Khan. Flavia couldn't do a damned thing to stop it, she barely had the troops to make sure it didn't spill into her own domain. Correspondence with the agent sent to protect Basilio's chosen successor had gone completely dark.

Plegians were pouring over the border en masse. Not an army, not even bandits; refugees. Refugees all shouting claims about the return of the old ones. Winged creatures ruling over the skies above. Wyverns that knew speech, capable of feats only thought possible by humans. They spoke of the return of the old times, along with the return of those thought lost. Maribelle could barely handle the amount people flooding into Themis.

And then Valm. The Risen were on Valm. That terrified her the most, more than civil wars and rumors ever could. Undead prowling the continent again, sacking entire towns overnight. The Commander of Ylisse's forces there had warned them that they'd likely be overrun if they became a proper, hostile force. But they weren't only in Roseanne, they were even starting to appear in Chon'sin. Say'ri's forces were turned inwards, trying to purge whatever parasite appeared.

No one could believe it. All of this madness happening at once.

But Chrom gave his orders all the same.

Sully was sent North once more, entrenching the border between the Halidom and Western Ferox. More troops were dispatched under her command, along with two of the future children so they could search for their missing friend.

Lissa and her husband were sent west to try and organize some kind of relief effort. Ricken himself would be in charge of finding out if there was any truth as to what in the hell these people were saying.

Sumia, obstinate despite the chamber's protests, was on this boat with her. The Queen's mandate had been expanded. Now an entire retinue of soldiers followed her to the far west. The goal had changed from reinforcing Roseanne to forcing a truce between the warring states, as well as dealing with the Risen.

Now Cordelia stood at the bow of a transport, below her were built in stables and quarters of eighty more Pegasus Knights. Behind her vessel, three more ships crashed through the waves. Each of them filled with a mixture of cavaliers, spearmen and mages. More men and women than Ylisse already had placed protecting Roseanne. Workers and soldiers mulled about the deck, carrying out duties or trying to kill time before they made landfall that day.

The last letter Morgan had sent here was clutched in a fist, crumpled into almost nothing.

The report was more bleak than she'd ever expected. Supplies were reaching a critical level, her daughter planning to rely on raiding her enemy for more weapons and equipment. Her battle plan wasn't even set to defeat the Valentians, just bloody their nose enough to make them retreat for a time. But when they returned… they couldn't hold out forever.

Virion and Cherche's nation would be crippled if this went on too long. Everything the Duchy had was being poured into the fight; crops, ore, pelts, gold. The small farming nation wasn't built to sustain a war economy.

The numbers they were facing made Cordelia pale. Two to one odds, and that was with the troops they knew about. Valentia could bring reinforcements and replacements with ease, but Ylisse couldn't. Each man lost meant a new one having to be shuttled across the ocean. A trip that took almost a month in it's own right.

And all of this, not even counting the Risen.

Suddenly an apple was dangled in front of her view. As she turned, Stahl was at her side once more, smiling casually. "You skipped breakfast. Again."

"I had to check the patrol reports." Cordelia brushed off, taking the fresh fruit and hungrily biting into it. She tried to focus on the flavor as it came down, anything to take her mind off the worst case scenarios that had plagued her nightmares over the past few weeks.

It wasn't working, and Stahl could tell.

"Morgan's going to be fine." Stahl said, trying to assure the worried mother hen. "Going loopy up here won't get us to Valm any faster."

"Would you be doing anything else if it was Noire out there?" Cordelia muttered vindictively between bites, scarfing her new food down. In five seconds the whole apple was gone, and she let the core topple off into the dark blue torrent below.

Stahl shrugged, relaxing as best he could given the shaking vessel. "Nah. I'd bet we'd actually switch roles." He pondered, yawning as he tried to sit up on the boat's edge. "I'd be freaking out, you'd be talking to me about how I should have faith in her."

Cordelia didn't reply to this observation, though she was plainly aware about just how accurate it was. On this blasted ship, he'd been doing quite a bit to keep her from losing herself. Hunting her down, sharing meal times, coordinating ground plans. They'd even restarted their old harp sessions, both of them taking to it like riding a bike.

Stahl was a good friend, he always had been.

"I get it." He picked up. "Really, I do. You've lost a lot, more than most people could usually handle."

"I've persevered." Cordelia commented.

"No one who knows you would say otherwise." He said, comfortably smiling. "You don't want to lose anyone else."

Cordelia shook her head, brushing a few loose strands of hair out of her face as she started to make the outline of land on the horizon.

"...It feels like everything I'll ever have is temporary." She admitted. "Ten years ago I was the lone survivor of twenty women who put my life above theirs. I met the love of my life, and only as able to spend four years with him before he left me. My own daughter disappears just as mysteriously as she came, without a trace."

"You still have plenty." Stahl pointed out.

"And I refuse to be **robbed** of any more of it." Cordelia proclaimed. "They came back to save _us_ , Stahl. All of them, they did the impossible so we could even live to be as old as we are now." The woman took a deep breath, steadying her nerves. "They all deserve peace. We owe them that."

The viridian paladin nodded, looking over his shoulder to spot the approaching Valmese coastline himself. "After what happened, everyone deserves some peace."

* * *

Tiki sat on the shingled roof of the harbormaster's residence, watching vigilantly for the ships that would soon come into view. She sat with her legs close to her chest, the cloak that hung over her shoulders now enshrouding her entire body. Fatigue had worn her down over these past few months, soaring endlessly across the Valmese sky.

The Risen had plagued her mind ever since she first sensed their return. Day after day she would follow the trace of fell essence and burn it to ash. First small groups of the undead, scattered to and fro. But now they were starting to form packs, warbands even.

And yet she still wasn't any closer to finding their origin. She wouldn't be as long as this war continued onward.

Humans were such a fickle species. Even within their short lifetimes, they were oh so ready to forget the lessons they were forced to learn a scant few years prior. In the millennia she'd spent alive, Tiki often had to wonder why these people were so keen on causing themselves so much suffering over trivial reasons.

She could still remember the day Walhart fell. When her friends, the Exalt and Empress both lunged into the man and brought him back to earth. The moment it happened, all the remaining soldiers fighting for the Conqueror threw their weapons down in an instant. Their god had been felled, they had no reason to continue.

Except now they did. Alben had given them a new purpose, trying to reunify the continent under a different intent. Now instead of conquest, it was 'liberation'. One which many people seemed happy to accept.

Still, she had remained neutral in this endeavor for far too long. At this point not acting would be akin to indifference, and there were people who needed help. If not her, then who?

Once the Ylisseans made landfall, she would speak to their Queen. Then with the Chon'sinese Empress, they could hopefully drag the other leaders into some kind of agreement to at least deal with the larger problem at hand first.

Her investigation wasn't totally fruitless at least. These masks weren't purely Fell in creation, that much she was certain of. In fact elder magic seeped out from their being far more than any connection to Grima. Each one seemed to hold the shell of what she believed to be a beetle as well, though why that was the case was beyond her.

Someone was creating these things. But why?

As the boats came into her view, the Voice stood and readied her dragon stone. The blue gem shone brightly in her hand, energy pulsing as she prepared to transform.

Perhaps she would have more success with aid than she had alone.

* * *

 _ **A/N: This took way longer than I thought it would to write up, but it's out now. A little bit of forshadowing for what Inigo and Owain are going to have to deal with in their own respective adventures, along with how life's been continuing on for the other Shepherds.**_ _ **I'm sure some people are going to wonder why Morgan hasn't told dear old mom why Selena's back. That'll be explained in the next paralogue.**_

 _ **In semi-related news, I started a third story. Gonna focus on it for a bit in the place of the Last Exalt, mostly because I'm trying to figure out some critical stuff about the next step with that story. Plus 'Interim' is just plain fun for me to write.**_

 _ **Review responses!**_

 _ **Otts486: Sev is a good lass, I agree. Outta the three kids that were in Fates, she was my second favorite. But it was a close race between all of them. Can't really say I dislike any of the tykes.**_

 _ **Marengo227: You keep laying on the praise, it'll get to my head. Seriously thought, I'm glad to be pleasing the audience. The story's been a pretty slow burn up to this point but things're gonna really start going crazy now that everything's established.**_

 _ **Guest: Maybe. Maybe not. I'm not afraid to pull a Sin City on you guys :)**_

 _ **Dei: Thanks for pointing that out, I was actually trying to do some rewrites and I ended up uploading the wrong files! It's fixed now though. As always I'm happy to hear that I'm doing the MC justice, and noted on the supporting characters being a bit hard-edged. As for the second generation characters; they'll be present. But not everyone's gonna show up in every story, the cast for Rupture is going to be wholly different from that of Fracture. If things keep going on schedule though, I'll probably be starting book two around summer's end.**_

 _ **Thanks again for the reviews, follows and favorites everyone. Next time we're gonna be back in Sev's head. Until then, take care.**_

 _ **o/**_


	26. C-21: Alone in the Dark

You know, turns out what they say is true. Your life really does flash before your eyes.

Not just the big moments too, smaller stuff. Things I'd long since forgotten about.

Yarne cannon-balling into a pond after he'd shape-shifted, sending us all flying out along with most of the water. After that, old lady Panne banned him from using his beast-stone for a month.

First camping trip, watching Inigo bumble into a bear's den. Back then he was still shy around even us, so he'd scurry off any chance he had. Watching him run away crying while his Dad had to deal with the Mama. Priceless.

Owain dragging me out of that mire when we were both five. We'd left trying to go on some grand adventure, just like our larger than life parents. We _ended up_ nearly drowning in the countryside and causing a manhunt to be ordered for us.

Helping Noire clean up a cut she got while trying to cook. Amazing how deft she is with a bow, but you put a pot in her hand and she'll somehow get a gash right over her palm.

Lucina, Cynthia, Morgan and I just playing in the castle. Stupid games like hide and seek or tag, dodging and weaving through the Palace's rooms and wide open spaces. We were just normal kids, four best friends living a quiet life.

Normal. Once upon a time I was normal.

* * *

Tactics lessons with Father. Sitting in his study, flipping through book after book with Morgan at my side. He was gruffer in my time than here, but both versions of him still radiated that distinct warmth. Constantly annoyed, but always kind. He raised us on the wars of old, using them as allegories of how and why conflicts should be fought. It was more than just battle-formations to him, it was a reflection of who the tactician was at their core.

When I asked who he thought was his favorite, he'd always point to the same books written by the same two people. Kris and Katarina. The two advisors of the Hero-King during the War of Shadows.

'Peacekeeping's a family tradition' he'd joke. Wonder what he meant by that.

* * *

My first Pegasus ride with Mother. Sitting on her lap while Aurora flapped over the castle walls. The wind was so cold, when we'd gotten back down I'd gotten sick. But up there, in the sky, I felt so free. So _alive_. Everything was perfect. The whole world was open, letting me see it. And the whole world could see _me._

And I was with the most important person in my life. The woman I wanted to be when I grew up. Mother taught me so, _so_ much in the short time I had her. Not just how to ride, but how to _be._ Strong, swift, firm. Fair, just, good. She was everything right in the world.

* * *

Cyrkensia. The Vallites were tearing the town apart piece by piece. Right after I joined up with Corrin's group, we all ran in to try and contain the damage. By total coincidence, _both_ hiers to _both_ Kingdoms just so happened to be present with their own personal armies. And even though Corrin tried to tell her blockhead brothers what was really going on, neither of them listened.

Honestly, I'm glad I have a sister instead.

We started fighting the invisible pains our arses pretty quick. But soon it devolved into a four way brawl. Us, the Vallites, the Hoshidans and the Nohrians. Sooner or later the royals all drew swords on each other around the town square.

Lazlow and I locked eyes pretty quickly. Without a word we both 'fought' our way out of sight, then took refuge in an abandoned building.

"She's the one." I told him as I sat on top of a bar counter. He was pacing back and forth in front of me, kicking up dust from the broken floorboards.

"Normally I wouldn't be saying this, being in a place with so many lovely ladies, but this is problematic." Lazlow observed, trying to come up with a plan.

"Really? Couldn't tell with the invisible jerks trying to kill everything." I droned sarcastically. "Oh and your Lord trying to murder mine."

"Prince Xander won't harm a hair on his siblings' head." He admonished defensively. "He's just in a dark place right now."

"Pretty sure I saw him try to slice Lady Camilla open like a Yuletide Ham." I kept going, getting more and more irritated. All three of us tended to make excuses for our respective Royal's shortcomings, but this was ridiculous. The Crown Prince was literally about to commit double fratricide.

"I know, I know." He answered quickly. "When he saw Camilla with Corrin the man just… snapped."

"So he's turning into his old man quicker? Great." I kept prodding. My fellow mercenary decided to promptly ignore the jab at the king we both didn't hold much stock in. He stopped in his stride, turning his back to me as he peered out of the window. "But that isn't the point."

"How are you sure she's really 'you know who's' child?" He prodded.

"Corrin's a manakete." I reveal, making him spin around with wide eyes. "Transformed in front of me. Dragons here look really weird, by the way." I raised both of my hands to try and pantomime the the antlers that the Princess had when transformed. "It's like a moose and a goat had a kid!"

"Out of all the images I needed, that was not one of them." Lazlow commented darkly. After that he came and had a seat right next to me. Both of gave each other a look. Neither of us really knew what to do at this point.

"You need to tell Odin." I say, breaking the silence.

"You certainly won't be able to once Xander brings word back about the defection." Lazlow mused, running a hand through his grey'd hair. "I suppose the first thing we should do is stop this nonsense and deal with the fourth party."

"We already tried that. The Hoshidans and your group aren't playing ball." I reiterate, shaking my head. "Do you think she knows about Va-"

Never even got to finish that sentence. Lazlow's hand shot up and covered my mouth before I knew what was happening. His eyes narrowed, the usual carefree facade he had replaced by the same focused look his Father gave him. "Don't."

I flushed from the contact, then averted my eyes downwards as I bit my tongue. Vallite curse. Forgot that was a thing. Forgot any of this was a thing.

"I'll distract Lord Xander and try to push him towards the Hoshidans. That should give you an opening to finish the invisible men." He instructed, pulling his hand back. "I'll tell Odin about this revelation once we return to Krakenburg."

I said something noncommittal, watching as he slipped off the counter and walked towards the door. He spun towards me, arms wide as his sunny smile shined at me. "And when this is all done, maybe we can finally have that tea date."

"Not on your life." I shot back, rolling my eyes.

"Can't fault a man for trying." He bemused, moving to hold both of his hands behind his back. "Hm. Perhaps Lady Corrin will be more receptive…"

"You do know Camilla will take your head off if you even _look_ at her sister the wrong way, right?" I tell him, sending a shutter down the man's spine. "Just get going. And slap some dirt on you, make it look like we actually fought."

"Alright, alright." He turned around, walking over towards the doorway. Right as he pushed it open, the man looked over my shoulder. "Who was that blue-haired girl with you? The one in the white dress."

"I am _not_ helping you in another of your conquests." I grumble with a pointed glare.

"No lady is a conquest. All women are treasures." He shoots back smugly, all the while I scoffed at his pointless philandering. All these years and he was still obsessed with taking girls out on this stupid little tea dates. Even after more than a few of them had beaten him senseless for it.

Still, he didn't stop pressing. "At least give me her name, Selena. I'm genuinely curious."

I keep trying to burn him to ash with my eyes, but that's one magic spell I never got to learn. For what it's worth his usual smarminess was missing. Something else was there, something I couldn't pin back then.

"...Azura." I relented. He smiled at me again and shot a thumbs up. As he turned to leave, I called out to him one last time. "Inigo."

Again he looked to me, now more confused that I'd use his real name. Why did I do that…? Maybe I was worried it was the last time we'd see each other. The last time I'd see either of my two oldest friends.

"Be careful. Please."

* * *

The night Subaki proposed is the most vivid.

We'd come to that dumb Canyon. Somehow we managed to kill off all of Garon's loyalists, and all the Royals agreed to a mutual truce to find out what Corrin had been rambling about ever since we joined her. The skies were set to remain flipped for a few days, so we dug in. Made plans, rested, organized, got ready for the real fight.

We'd only been dating a few months, and I already had trouble thinking about life without him. Which given my circumstances was the worst possible situation.

But when I was around him, I usually forgot that.

When he snuck us away to an old, dilapidated fort in the canyon's center, I was laughing the whole way there. _Me_ , giggling like some bubbly airhead. We ducked inside and started to head up the stairs.

"You probably gave us away." He playfully scolded his shoulder as we made our way up, tugging me along gently by the hand.

"And _you_ haven't told me what we're doing here." I answered back, hopping up the staircase gleefully.

"Now where's the fun in that?" Subaki crooned, smiling at me while I pouted.

It didn't take long to get up onto the fort's ramparts. Once we were there it was pretty clear what he wanted me to see.

Swaths of pigment swirled above us. Light and darkness mixed together into streaks of color dragged across a white canvas. Not a single cloud marred our vision as the white and black danced above us. It was like… it was _alive_. The sky itself had turned into a living, breathing creature.

I stood there, gawking up at the view. Didn't even notice Subaki sat us down on a blanket. I didn't notice _anything_ until he nudged me out of my stupor. When I looked around us, I'd seen that he'd actually prepared the place. A steel pot of stew was popped open, two bowls laying up against it. Some candles circled us, illuminating the darkness enough so we could see but dimly that no one else could notice.

The smell from the meal danced up my nose, the smell pungent and familiar. "Is that my recipe?"

"Finally managed to not ruin the cabbage." He boasted proudly, leaning over to start filling up the bowls. I took another long wiff after he passed me a portion, and I had to admit he had seemed to nail it. "Where did you learn this recipe? It's nothing like we have in Hoshido."

"Oh, you know. Nohr." I lied. He still didn't know anything about this world then. No one did. No one would. That's what I kept promising myself.

As I took a long sip from the bowl, my stomach churned. The stuff tasted like my Dad's carrot soup. Or well, the better way to put it, the stuff tasted like infected dishwater.

I could hear him gag aswell, the soup not cooperating with his own pallet. I grabbed his bowl from his hands, poured both bowls back into the pot, picked up the pot, then promptly dumped the contents over the edge of the rampart.

Subaki sat there in shock for a moment as I put the now empty containers back down where they were. "Y-you could've at least told me what was wrong with it!"

"It'd be quicker to tell you what was _right_ with it." I answered dismissively, sitting back down and leaning up against him. "Just shut up and enjoy the moment."

Unfortunately, or well, fortunately in hindsight, he didn't shut up. Subaki stood up, bringing me up with him. I jut up unceremoniously, scowling up. "Hey, hey! What'd I just say?"

"Well I was going to do this after we finished our meal, and it's clearly finished." Subaki clarified, holding my hands as the candle-light kept flickering around us. "We need to talk."

Oh boy. Those words. Those words never bode well for me in any situation I was in. The 'talk' was usually me getting told off for something I'd done wrong. 'You broke the blades while sharpening them.' 'You burned all the food for dinner service.' 'Why is there an axe lodged next to the horse stables?'

I stood there quiet, expecting the worst. Was he going to dump me? Oh Gods, he was going to dump me. I thought I'd eased off on my Ice Queen stuff plenty ever since we'd gotten together. I hadn't even challenged anyone to a contest in a month. How did I screw this up?

He took a deep breath, both of our eyes meeting one another. They were so hardened, it was the same way he looked whenever he walked onto a battlefield. "In a few days we'll be headed down the canyon. Everyone's been saying this could be a one-way trip."

He slipped a hand inside his gi, rummaging around for something. When he pulled out the ring, I had to check that the one he'd made me was still in my pouch. This new one was a red band, with a black gem settled right in the middle. How he'd managed to make it, I still don't know.

When he went down on a knee I finally realized what was going on. The sneaking away, the hidden set up, the dim lights, the pretty vista. Step up for this specific moment. And I'd ruined it by chucking the food he made over the edge.

"Selena." He continued, holding the ring clear for me to see. "I'll be honest. I was never one for relationships. My work was too important. But meeting you changed things. Spending time with you made me care about… things other than my duties."

He removed my glove. Like Owain's birthmark, my brand was missing back then. Wonder if his came back as well. But he didn't slip it on. He held it still, waiting for me to do it myself. "Selena. I know I'm asking a lot of you. But these past few months have been some of the best in my life. So I…"

I was crying. I knew I was. I wasn't supposed to get a happy ending, I never deserved it. Love never worked out for my family. I'd already been burned once by it. I barely even deserved to _survive_ my past. But here it was in front of me. The man I loved more than anything was offering to be with me for the rest of my days.

He didn't even have to finish. I put my finger through the ring then and there.

* * *

…

I have regrets.

I had everything I'd ever want in Valla.

A good position under a good monarch. Surrounded by friends, new and old. A husband and child I was proud of. I'd done so much good there. I could keep doing good there. All the troubles and failures of my past, they could be left behind. Forgotten, abandoned. Never to haunt me again.

And yet I wanted to come back. I'd thrown all of that away.

Now here I am, alone. I can see everything, but it's all just black. I'm standing in a void. When I walk, it's just nothing but my footsteps.

If this is death, then being dead _sucks._

But I keep walking. And walking, and walking. What else am I supposed to do, stay still? It's not like I'm getting tired. And what's sitting around ever gotten me?

So I'll keep going forward. It's worked out so far.

Funny. The Priests told me that the afterlife was supposed to be all sunshine and roses. People would be dancing in fields of green and singing hymns. Everyone's all happy. I'd be reunited with all the loves ones I've lost in my life. Well, either they're wrong, or I'm in hell. And honestly both of those options are likely.

Off in the distance I can see a faint orange glow flickering. It burns my eyes a bit, but it's there. Good, progress, keep going.

As I get closer and closer, the light gets larger and larger. Pulsating like fire. My footsteps keep echoing around me like I'm in a large, empty cave with a flat stone floor. My boots just slap harshly again and again, each step booming like a war drum.

Then I finally arrive at the source. A campfire. There's people sitting there too. One looks like a small girl with shoulder length white-blonde hair. They're wearing a biege and red sundress, with some thin felt gloves on. She feels really, really familiar. Meanwhile the other person is...

Me. Another me. Who looks exactly like I did before I left for Nohr.

Wait. How can I be sitting there. I'm standing here. That isn't how physics works.

"Took you long enough." Bizzaro-Me said, waving me over. I pace around the campfire and look at her for a moment. Naga's grace, she's a complete replica. My old gear and outfit, my old eye-color. Even my _hair length_ is back to the way it was. I forgot how short my twintails used to be.

She's just sitting there lazily, legs outstretched and resting back onto her palms. I carefully sit down, crossing both of my legs like I'm at a Hoshidan tea ceremony.

"Really? No reaction?" The figure asked, looking clearly disappointed. The young girl remained quiet, eyes shooting back and forth between the two of us. "Oh come _on_ , I was hoping you'd at least freak out or something. 'Oh my Gawds, there's two of me! I'm going crazy! Owain's officially more stable than I am!'"

"You're the thing that's been saying crazy stuff in my head." I state, ignoring the statement. Am I freaking out? Yes. Am I going to give this witch the satisfaction? No. Besides, this doesn't even crack my top ten list of 'weird stuff that I've been through.'

"Oh sure, I'm the crazy one. Staying behind to fight fifty-odd people alone is completely sane." She answers back.

"I was buying my men time." I retort.

"You were getting us killed." The figure spits back. "You know, for all the shit we gave Lucina about having a Martyr's complex, you seem real keen on dying a hero."

"And _you_ seem real keen on being a sadist." I calmly answer.

She shoots her hands up defensively. "Hey, I'm not the one who incinerated those mages. That was all you, sister."

"Please stop fighting." The girl says quietly, bringing her legs close to her chest. Her eyes are barely visible above her knees. She's scared. Really, really scared.

The other me rolls her eyes, and I sigh. "So, where are we. Am I dead?"

"Pff. You wish." The mercenary grumbles. "No, we aren't. That blow to our skull just took us out of action. Then again, eternity with you definitely sounds like Hell."

"Shove off." I hiss out, clenching my fists.

Now she's smirking. "Oooh, the nice one still has a temper? Not so serene and above it all, are you?"

" _Please._ Can we please just talk?" The little girl begs. "We don't need to fight."

"Did anyone say you could speak, twerp?" My evil twin answers.

"Leave the kid alone. She's obviously scared." I interject.

"Who, of me?" She asks.

"Of _both_ of us. Of this entire place." I correct. "We're in a massive black chasm. Look at her, she's six at most."

The mercenary doesn't reply. Begrudgingly she goes quiet and stares at me. So I decide to take control of the situation.

"So who are you exactly?" I ask. "You said the blow took 'us' out of action. So what, are we stuck in my head?'

" _Our head_ , and yeah. That's what I figure." She jabs a thumb over at the girl. "Doesn't explain who pip-squeak is."

No. It doesn't. When I turn over to look at the short-stack again, I try to remember where I've seen her before. There weren't a lot of children in my life before Caeldori. Kids generally didn't have a long life expectancy and I tried to avoid younger people as a rule. A lot of bad memories came along with them.

"It doesn't matter." I affirm, smiling her way. She looks up at me just a bit more, and I turn back to my doppelganger. "So we wait until we wake up."

"If we wake up." She grumbled.

Now I'm snorting. "You think I'm dying from a smack to the head? Please, that'd be the _worst_ story ever." I joke. "...But seriously, who are you?"

"Uh, isn't it obvious?" She pulls a hand up and waves it over her person. "I'm you. You're me."

"If you're me, then why does my brand go haywire whenever you start acting out?" I ask. "For all I know you're just Grima in a skinsuit."

She rolls her eyes. "Grima's _dead_. You know that. The only person who could even be his vessel was Dad, and he's worm-food."

"We could've missed something." I affirm.

She just shakes her head. "I'm not Grima. And I don't know why our birthmark's been glowing so much lately. Ever since we jumped back through Anakos' weird… orb… _thing,_ stuff's just been bonkers."

"You think this has something to do with Anakos?" I ask.

"Well he had a split personality too, and we did drink his blood." She points out. "Remember, when we first went to Valla? The dragon veins?"

"Short term solutions. Long term consequences." I hum along. "But that seems really simplistic. If all it took was drinking his stuff, then why'd this start now? Shouldn't have I started losing it in Nohr?"

She offers a weak shrug. "I dunno. You're guess is as good as mine, sweetheart."

"...You'd think two heads would make this easier." I grumble.

"We aren't two heads." She points out. "I think what you think, I see what you see. Different trains of thought doesn't mean different people."

"I am _so_ not you." I answer back. "I don't like killing people for looking at me funny."

"Oh for-" She groans, rolling her eyes. "I don't like killing people either, you twit. I'm just not squeamish about it like you are." She starts speaking in an exaggerated voice. "Oh, all life is precious. We always need to do the morally right thing. We need to be the good guys. Wah wah wah."

She throws her head back and laughs for a good while. It's a wild, long cackle. Bouncing all around us. The child curls up all over again, clearly uncomfortable. Meanwhile I'm losing my patience with this jerk.

She stops, then looks at me with a disgusted glare. "You're still chasing after her, aren't you?" I blink a few times, not getting it. "Come on now, you know it's true. The self-sacrificing, the sanctimonious attitude, always telling people to 'be better'. Pretending like you're above all the problems everyone has. Like you're oh **so** perfect."

She's talking to me like I'm scum. The lowest of the lower. Like I'm… a homewrecker.

Then it falls in place. Something I thought I'd moved past years ago, but this little trip back home's dredged up plenty of crap I thought I'd gotten over.

Like I said, love didn't have a good history in my family. Subaki wasn't the first person I had feelings for. But he was the first one who ever reciprocated them.

...

Lucina.

She thinks I'm still in love with Lucina.

...

"You utter bitch." I say. And then she goes off laughing all over again.

"Ah **ha**!" She exclaims victoriously.

"What's that you always tell people? 'Language'!" She mocks, cackling wildly again. "Ohhh, this is perfect! You aren't even denying it! You really do still love her!"

"I don't _need_ to deny it." I answer. "If we're the same person, then you know I don't feel that way anymore."

"Oh, but you do!" She sits up, pointing an accusatory finger at me. "That's why you keep trying to act like her! It's why you keep trying to act like Mother, and Dad, and Morgan, and _Subaki_ , and you're own daughter! Because you know, deep down, that the people you care about are a hundred times better than you are, and you hate it!"

"I'm trying to be better **for** them! They **deserve** a better me!" I yell back.

"No, you don't deserve **them!** You're just leeching off of them like some sort of parasite, riding off their good graces!" She fires at me again. "Stop lying to yourself, you know I'm right!"

"I. Love. My husband. I am _not_ trying to get over Lucina." I hiss through clenched teeth.

"Really?" She asks. In a puff of smoke she's gone, then next thing I know she's leering over me like a gargoyle.

" _Then why did you even leave in the first place?"_ She spits.

I sit there for a while, glaring up at her. Her eyes are so full of anger and bitterness.

Did I really used to look like this? Was this really what I was like? How many people did I put through this kind of… not even interrogation, she's tearing me apart. And the things she's saying… why did I even go to Nohr. Someone asked for help, right? That's why I left, right?

I'm not a coward. I'm not a homewrecker. I'm a good person because I do good things, even if I've screwed up in the past.

...But why does what she's saying bother me so much.

"If you're me-" I start again, holding my eye contact. "-Then you know how I feel about him is real. Because you feel it too."

"Or maybe I'm the one who actually cares, and you're just putting on airs." She answers.

The figure stands straight, growling. "I can't believe I'm wasting my time with you." She bumbles out. "Take care of this brat. I'm out of here."

She walks past me, away from it all, into the darkness. All the while the kid's sitting there, crying and confused. I shuffle over and pull out a handkerchief, ignoring whatever the hell just happened and try to wipe the poor kid's face clean. I speak softly, hug her, tell her everything's going to be alright. I won't abandon someone in a place this depressed.

I think back to that talk I had in my tent when Blanche and I came back, and through it all there's one silver lining I'm proud of. If that really was who I once was, then Morgan's right.

I've changed. For the better.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Well, that took longer than I would've liked. College plus a bad mood and writer's block are a really lovely 'I can't write' cocktail. Sorry guys.**_

 _ **Next chapter'll be a paralogue. Everyone take care, and good luck if you're dealing with finals like I am.**_

 _ **o/**_


	27. P-3: Sister's Keeper

Things were, for the most part, going to plan.

Morgan sat atop her Pegasus, high in the sky surveying the battlefield. Her spear was sheathed in her saddle, with a trio of colored tomes hanging by a ring from the seat. She'd picked this position well, far back enough to be out of the range of spells and arrows, but close enough that she could watch on and relay orders.

The Valentians had taken the bait, green covered soldiers were rushing out of the forest and towards the river where the bridges had been 'accidentally' left intact. All of their forces seemed to be retreating back across to their line in good order. Archers and mages were set along the first trench, lying down in wait for the signal. Off deeper into the Alsace, clouds of smoke poured above the canopy of trees. The sign of marching war parties.

In the center was only Ylissean blue. The men and women directly under her command. Much as she didn't enjoy that officer's show from the meeting a few weeks back, he'd made a point that stuck with her. The Expedition's troops were better, there was no arguing that. So they were given the hard job of holding the line where most of the Valentians would be funneled.

Lavender wrapped around them like the wings of her steed. The militia had moved slower than their professional counterparts, but faster than Morgan had anticipated. These farmers and shopkeepers were impressing her. While her men were far better trained, they had a stronger will to fight.

Behind them were their families and homes. Roseanne's people still held a clear memory of the terror Walhart brought here. Grain tithes, martial law, conscription. Of course they wanted to avoid a repeat of that cruel past.

Morgan smirked. Morale was her biggest fear, now it was turning into her greatest strength.

Maybe too great. There was a group of local soldiers that were going back across the river for some reason. Why were they breaking off from their orders?

She grabbed the gadget that hung around her neck, a pair of compact telescopes welded together. Laurent had made for her before she left. He'd gone on and on about the plans he had to mass-produce them for the whole army, but for now she held one of the prototypes.

As she looked down she saw… Caeldori on her own Pegasus, leading a small group of men towards the forest once more. This made even _less_ sense. She wouldn't break off from the plan. Severa might, but she had faith in the more level-headed Caeldori to reign in her renegade mother.

She let her field glasses fall, hands wrapping back around the reigns as she prepared for another argument with her stubborn sibling. "Mind getting us there girl?" Morgan asked her mount. The horse whinnied curiously, eyeing their destination, then looking back at her rider.

"Yeah, I know. Here we go again." She answered the glance, whipping the reigns once. The blackened steed complied, and began a glide down towards the moving mass of men. Her hair smacked her lightly across the cheek, causing her to sputter out a few stray strands.

As the tactician flew closer, she began to try and figure out what they were doing that far out without their leader. Maybe there were still some people who hadn't crossed the river? A few minutes ago there'd been a large fireball that blew into the sky. Did the Valentians bring cannons? No, no. It'd be beyond stupid to try and pull those through forest this thick.

"Level out a bit Caeda." Morgan instructed, the Pegasus quickly complying as the two came to a hover above the trenches. At that moment, fire and thunder began to fly out wildly from the forest. Bolts of thunder shot out and smashed into the shields of the remaining soldiers. Balls of flame lash out and scorch the grass they stand on.

Caeldori turns around, yelling some kind of order, right when a torrent of fire pours into her back and throws the girl back to earth in a flaming heap.

" **NO!"** Morgan screamed, spurring her horse forward as it shot off towards the arcane firing line.

She drew out the red tome, letting the wind push it open before careening down. Thermal energy already began to prime itself in her arm before she even reached the others. As the formation moved to grab the wounded knight and drag her back, Morgan fired off a funnel of flames.

The fire smashed into the treeline, setting all below ablaze in an instant. Trees cracked and snap from the added pressure, a few unfortunate Valentians yelling as they ran out from the inferno and tried to smother their burning robes.

It gave her allies enough time to drag their smoldering carcasses back over the pontoons. Morgan's view darted over the blackened purple group, turning around and flying back over towards the trenchline.

She landed just as they all settled safely behind the defenses, their own archers and mages still laying in wait for the second stage of the plan. The redhead dismounted her steed and rushed through the mass, pushing and shoving her way over to wherever her niece lay.

Morgan did find her. A young bespectacled man channeling as a white light bathed the torched flier. She was laid down on her side. Her back was completely exposed, fabric burned to cinder and skin charred. Her long mane of ruby hair was a mess of blackened ends now.

"You're g-gonna be fine, Dori." The boy spoke nervously as he worked. "Please just hang in there. It'll all be alright." He pleaded.

Morgan knelt down on the opposite side, looking at Caeldori's visage. Eyes locked close and mouth barely open. Her chest tentatively moving up and down. It looked eerily peaceful, as if she was merely sleeping.

She looked just like Gerome and Cynthia. The memories of their bloodied forms being carted into the Keep.

Morgan looked back up at the boy who was treating Caeldori, realizing who it was. The same Priest who had worked on her friends that dark night as well. Percival. He'd been quiet around her, focused intently on his work. Why was he so nervous about this now?

"Do you need me to go get help?" Morgan asked, to which the Priest sharply shook his head.

"No!" He sputtered, before looking over to match Morgan's gaze. "C-Commander? What are you doing here?"

"I saw what happened and tried to help." Morgan informed, calmly smirking. "You're welcome for buying you time, by the way."

"Wait, the forest-fire was you?" The Priest asked in disbelief.

"Arcfire's pretty potent." Morgan answered. "How is she?"

He looked back down at the wound, sighing as the light from his staff died. "She'll live, Miss Takeda's got a pretty high resistance." He let his arms sag, sitting down onto the wet morning grass. "I think it was the sudden jolt of pain that knocked her out, but burn isn't deep. She'll probably wake up and be able to fight again by tonight."

"She took a direct hit from a spell." Morgan reiterated, not the assessment not assuaging her fears.

Percy waved Morgan over, and she moved to now kneel at his side. He pointed at the burn mark, a blackened misshapen circle the size of a fist covering her right shoulder blade. "See how small it is?" He said. "This was just a normal fire tome, barely even a third-degree burn. Nothing like what you used back there. It'll leave a nasty scar, but it isn't lethal."

Morgan nodded, muttering an old prayer that her own mother had taught her a long time ago. The tactician also took note to store that information for later; fire tomes. Their mages were only armed with lower yield spells. Another thing to factor into her planning for the coming days.

"What are you even doing here Percy?" Morgan asked him. "Aren't you a castle healer?"

"I uh…" He laughed nervously, pressing his glasses back up his nose. "...volunteered for the medical corps. More people need help here than back at Roseanne I figured."

"And you got assigned to this Company?" She questioned.

He nodded. "Miss Severa made me the field surgeon."

' _Sis picked her staff well.'_ Morgan thought to herself.

"Where's your Captain?" She asked as a follow up, to which Percival merely turned his hands up in a shrug.

"I haven't seen her. Too busy helping our injured." He said, much to Morgan's clear disappointment.

Percy noticed and gulped, clearly not wanting to draw the wrath of yet _another_ Volkner. "She's probably doing a headcount on the men! Her and the Sergeant Major were taking up the rearguard."

Holding the rear-line. Morgan groaned and stood, of course Severa had chosen the hardest job for herself. Why did she always do that?

With that, Caeldori's white pegasus trotted over to the pair. It looked at it's injured partner, mournfully nuzzling it's snout into the side of what red hair remained. Quietly, the girl began to stir.

"M-mother…" Caedori murmured out, head softly turning.

Percival's brow continued to crease as he cradled his staff between his legs, not liking that response. "I'll tell Miss Severa you stopped by. She's gonna wanna come check on Dori anyway."

The nickname earned a knowing smile from Morgan, one that made Percy grow all the more nervous once more. "So you call her 'Dori' now? That's cute."

He flushed a deep red, reflexively grabbing the Priests cap on his head and using it to cover his face. Morgan sniggered at the performance, standing back up and correcting her leg shields once more. "Tell her to find me once we're finished up here." Morgan ordered, before spinning on a heel and darting off.

"Stay safe!" Percy called over to her as she ran off, before walking himself around so that he could now look at Caeldori's face himself. The sky knight continued to murmur and turn, and he quietly took her hand in his own while the pegasus stood vigil.

"What happened back there…?" He asked no one in particular, his thumb idly stroking the back of his friend's hand.

* * *

The battle was really taking off now.

Their enemy had been drawn into field that Morgan had marked down as their killzone fully. Two hundred and seventy five meters of open plain lay between their trench-works and the river. A large group of Valentians, more than half of their force, had crossed over the river and was now marching in formation towards their defenses.

Morgan was sky bound high above once more, nerves having settled after dealing with that opening fiasco. She still wanted to hunt down Severa and find out why they'd lagged behind so much, but time wasn't a luxury she had while helping command an army numbering in the thousands. Besides, she could always save that yelling match for after this day's fighting was done.

It was a massive host. Even without their full numbers to bare they seemed to easily outnumber Roseanne's forces. She'd expected Maddox to bring at least ten regiments to fight, but this… seeing all of these people in front of her. All with the intent to try and kill her. It wasn't just unnerving, it was terrifying.

It also made her feel guilty. She was about to be responsible for an unforgivable amount of suffering.

"You look conflicted." Cherche said. The Duchess was with her now, clad in her combative gear. Even Minerva had a few plates of steel fastened atop her already durable scales. "Is something threatening your plan?"

Morgan dropped her field glasses and sighed. "The plan's worked perfectly. They're about to walk right over the mines." She pointed out. "Just feels… wrong, doing this."

Cherche hummed softly, the pink haired Duchess watching the uniformed men and women below march unknowingly towards what could be their last moments. "Much as I wish, I cannot offer you solace young one. War is cruelty, we cannot refine it."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Morgan asked in exasperation.

Cherche shook her head. "No, but none of this should." She explained. "It's terrible, ending another's life. But better for you to feel that terror than to ignore it. Or worse, embrace it."

"And why's that, Auntie?" The Tactician pressed, leaning back in her saddle and laying flat on her mount's back. The Pegasus whinnied loudly, clearly not liking the precarious position her rider was placing herself in. Not that Morgan cared, she'd spent plenty long trips asleep on Caeda. Both in this world and the last.

"Because it makes sure we continue to do it as a final resort." Cherche proclaimed. "Something Walhart never seemed to comprehend."

Morgan answered with silence, twiddling her thumbs. She could've cut her hair back down to a crop, but she decided to let it stay long. Tied off at the end and resting on her left shoulder. Something of a mix between her mother's long puff, Severa's twin ponytails and her father's scruffy bangs.

"It reminds you too much of your old world." Cherche surmised, watching the young woman carefully. Much like her husband, Cherche did feel very much responsible for the children that fled the future. They all felt like her own, almost as much as both Geromes did.

"It makes me frustrated." Morgan admitted. "Wonder if my Father felt the same way."

"Oh, he did." Cherche answered quickly. She smiled as the memory of the white haired man returned, even so long after he'd been buried. "Your father felt the weight of every life he took. He even took pity on the Grimleal."

Morgan's eyes narrowed at that. "And why did he care about _those_ monsters? They ruined his life."

"Cynical as Robin was, he never wished his pain on others." Cherche pointed out. "When I first met him, he had been Ylisse's Grandmaster for two years. Yet even with the Valmese on his doorstep his plans always put survivability over victory."

"No one's expendable." Morgan echoed, recalling her teacher's most followed adage.

The Wyvern Lord nodded. "For him, that phrase cut both ways. It seems only natural it would for you."

"...Maybe." Morgan commented. She didn't know if that was as true as Cherche believed. Yes, she tried to avoid sending anyone to their deaths. But she was willing to do so if it achieved a greater cause. That was something she knew her Father would never accept. And that ruthlessness… it helped her at times, but it scared her in others.

"Both your parents held a very harsh pragmatism in spite of their morality." Cherche conceded, deciding not to press the issue. "Speaking of. How did Cordelia react when you gave her the news of Severa's return?"

"She doesn't know." Morgan answered bluntly, playing with her hair-tail.

"Beg pardon?" Cherche followed, confused.

"I wanted to tell Mom, but Severa told me to hold off." Morgan explained. "Something about not being ready to see her yet. Much as I don't like it, I respect her choice."

Cherche huffed, clearly not agreeing with the decision herself. Had she been in Cordelia's place, she'd be furious to know if anyone kept Gerome's situation secret from her, even if Gerome himself had asked.

Morgan in the meanwhile was still trying to figure out why. Every time she'd brought her mother up to Severa, she'd reacted so strangely. Sure, in the past it was a sense of resentment. But that didn't exist anymore as far as Morgan could tell. Any anger either of them had towards their parents was long gone.

No, it was… shame. Something happened that made Severa feel ashamed whenever Cordelia came into the equation. And for the life of her, Morgan couldn't figure out what. All she knew was that Severa'd done some soldiering in her storybook world. But when she pressed for details on _that_ as well, her sister went eerily quiet.

What had she done that was so horrible?

That question was pushed aside when the explosions rang out.

Morgan shot up to see large clouds of brown erupt upwards, the air filling with specs of dirt and grass. A few people could be seen flying skywards, before gravity grabbed hold of them once more and ripped their flailing forms back to earth. Even from up here both women could feel their ears ringing.

The mines were her own invention. Pressure sealed containers filled with grain dust and sulfur, laced with oil. She had the her mages set a hex above them, linked to them via a ward. With a simple incantation, the mines were primed. When someone walked above the hex, it sent a pulse downwards to trigger the explosives.

It'd worked perfectly.

Newly formed craters now dotted the once spotless farmland. The enemy's formations ceased to exist entirely, scattering and thrown helter-skelter. They were still moving forward, but now they were disorganized. The attack had been partially blunted.

That's when the second strike came. Arrows and spells.

In what could only be described as a hail, archers stood up from the trench and fired a flurry of arrows. Waves of missiles soared across the sky, arcing up and then crashing down onto the mob of unfortunate souls that still desperately attempted to advance. Yellow bolts of lightning and green arcs of wind cut forward along the ground, piercing and slicing through anyone who had dared to stand up.

And yet they still advanced, undeterred. As she brought her field glasses up once more, she could see their green and gold banners still flying high and defiant. Even after their standard bearers had been blown apart or shot, new soldiers willingly grabbed the flags. The withering fire kept pouring down, but that golden dragon remained steadfast.

"They're still coming." Cherche pointed out, drawing her axe out as she prepared Minerva to dive.

Morgan lifted her hand, motioning for her elder to take pause. "They still outnumber us. Counter-attacking would just give them more even ground."

The Duchess frowned, but seemed to agree, lowering her axe. "So should we sound the fallback?"

"Let the skirmishers expend their ammunition, then everyone retreats." Morgan corrected. The big fight of this battle wasn't supposed to happen now. Today was just motions to whittle down their enemy's advantage. Fighting a giant on it's terms gave it an advantage. The job of a tactician was to win wars, not fight fairly. Stumble the giant, then go for the finishing strike after.

She didn't make any protest the second time as her company's wyvern roared and began soaring down back towards their lines.

Morgan did the same, clicking her tongue to signal for Caeda to follow her scaled peer. The two flying beasts and their pilots turning into a speedy dive to the lines below. Even up here as they flew, the smell of smoke and ash still reached her senses. Both flew in formation, curling as their wyvern and pegasus both brushed above the mob of wounded soldiers pulling back from the initial strike in the forest.

As they recognized their Duchess soaring so closely above them, a cheer rose to meet them. Men and women waved their hands and helmets, lifting their spears in a wayward salute. The same word repeated, over and over again. " **Ganger, ganger, ganger!"**

Cherche laughed softly, raising her own war axe to return the gesture her subjects so readily sent her way. Morgan twisted her reigns, prompting her steed to perform a tight corkscrew that only drove the group to call out even louder. Their proud cries followed them even after they'd peeled out in front of the group.

Both landed in the Army's encampment a little bit aways from the battlefront, greeted by an enigmatic Duke. The foppish sniper still wore his battle gear, though his wife had forbade him from taking the field. After the Risen raid, Cherche was content to keep the Archiest of Archers away from possible harm.

"We could hear the shouting from camp!" Virion mused as the two approached him, arms outstretched as he grinned from ear to ear. "It has been ages since I have heard our people's war cry! They day must be going tremendously!"

"Wouldn't you like to know, seeing how you're grounded." Morgan chipped back, Virion's happy mood breaking at the jab as both arms fell unceremoniously back to his sides. The half-breed looked to her right, speaking to the other royal. "What does that even mean, 'Ganger'?"

"Roughly, 'to win' in our tongue." Cherche enlightened. "During the Saint-King's reign, it's said the Duchy was once home to the continent's finest knights. It was their motto."

"A tradition it does me proud to take up once more." Virion followed, going over to Cherche's side and wrapping his arm around the woman's shoulders. She didn't protest, if anything she seemed to let herself lean on him a tad.

Morgan averted her eyes, fearing the two were about to get a bit too intimate for her liking. Instead she found herself looking at another pegasus, it's feathers tinted an ashen gray in contrast to the deep black of Caeda. It was left untied, pacing about the entrance of the command tent.

"Er…" She began, opening her mouth and turning back to look to ask Virion what the animal was doing. Instead she found that her fears had been justified, which prompted her to quickly gag and skirt herself away towards the command tent. It always felt weird, seeing the older Shepherds get frisky.

Instead she quickly darted inside the command tent, expecting to see Blanche so they could start adjusting the next day's orders. Which, she did see. Blanche was standing at the war-table, moving figurines about and verbally sparing with a few other local officers.

What she didn't expect was the man in the far corner, arms crossed in front of him as he stood in the shadows with slicked back periwinkle hair. Next to him was a knight in silver armor, deep blue pigtails bouncing up and down as she tried to chat up the darkened rider.

The man was the first to notice her enter, his expression hidden by a black mask. The woman did right after, turning about to look directly at her.

"Cynthia!?" Morgan blurted out, going pale as a ghost.

" **MORGAN!"** Cynthia shouted back, running up and tackle-hugging the tactician as all the others in the tent watched on with vastly differing expressions.

It felt like getting body-slammed by a manakete, getting embraced by someone running at you in full armor. No one could blame Morgan as she lost her footing and tumbled down to the ground. Not that Morgan cared, the young girl was beside herself with joy. Tears were forming as she clung to her best friend's revived form, garbled words pouring out of her as she tried to speak.

Virion and Cherche wandered into the tent as well, bemusedly passing the interaction before they went to speak with their son. All the while Blanche barked a loud order, and the others in the tent returned to their duties.

Both junior fliers pulled one another back to their feet, shooting rapid-fire questions back and forth at one another. What they were doing here, how they were, when they'd arrived. Both jumped up and down as they kept clinging to each other, resembling school children playing a yard game.

"Ohmigods, ohmigods!" Cynthia said, both pausing their hops for a moment. "What happened to your hair? You grew it out!"

"I wanted a change." Morgan half-lied, not wanting to admit the main reason was laziness. "What, you don't like it?"

"I LOVE it! You look awesome!" Cynthia gushed, jumping away and squealing with glee. "You look like one of those noble ladies back in Ylisse!"

" I _am_ one of those noble ladies. So were you." Morgan pointed out, wiping her eyes dry with her cloak's sleeve. "I can't believe this, when we left the castle you were both half-dead!"

Cynthia laughed at that exclamation. "Psh, you think some arrows are gonna kill the Justice Couple? Who else is gonna defend the land from these green weirdos!?"

"But what about Jack!?" Morgan pointed out. "He isn't here, is he!?"

"We left him with Cherche's parents. He's safe, really! What kind of mom would bring her kid to a warzone?!"

"You mean how our parents brought us?" Morgan countered smugly.

"That was different! We were basically grown up, Jacks is still bite-sized!"

"Really, 'bite-sized'." Morgan added with a deadpan, but quickly brought up her cheerful radiance. "Gawds, Cincy. You haven't changed at all."

Cynthia pouted in defiance, jabbing a finger against her friend's shoulder. "Pot meet kettle. You're still the same as you've always been."

Morgan laughed a bit too nervously at that statement, rubbing her neck and looking about. Cynthia quickly ran off to go talk the ears off of her parents in law, while Morgan went over to speak with the masked man himself.

"Morgan." Gerome greeted.

"Grumps." Morgan replied, which earned an ambivalent grunt from the wyvern rider. "You look like a million coins. Those Priests sure know how to plug some holes!"

"Indeed." He answered curtly, not showing any emotion as usual.

"So, what." Morgan continued on, hands on her hips. "No hugs for your ol'Morgan? No how you've been?"

"Since when do I 'hug'?" He queried neutrally.

"No time like the present to start!" Morgan exclaimed, extending her arms out for the man to meet her in an embrace. Gerome promptly did no such thing, maintaining his posture as his still glare continued to frame Morgan's face.

The girl's shoulders sagged in defeat. "Ugh. This is just like when I made you those masks. Every time I try to do something nice you brush me off."

"You were harassing me about my face-wear for two weeks straight."

"You haven't given me a proper answer for _seven_ _years_ straight!"

"A lovely standard. I plan to let it endure." Gerome quipped, only to earn another audible groan from his beleaguered friend. "Mother told us your sister has returned."

Morgan's face tinged red at the mention, but she nodded in confirmation. "Yeah, Sev's back."

"I recall how you distraught you were when she went missing." He reminisced, foot tapping the box he leaned up against. "You were quite overcome with emotion."

Morgan resisted her urge to bite back at the jab, but didn't. She found it rather infuriating how someone as emotionally stunted as Gerome was describing her like she put on non-stop waterworks.

That, and he was right. But that didn't mean she'd acknowledge it.

"I'm gonna get back to work..." She said, to which the man did not reply. Merely staring her down as she awkwardly retreated back over to the central table. Both she and Blanche acknowledged one another.

Once everyone had fallen back, they could truly prepare for the next day.

* * *

Day turned to dusk, and the tent had mostly emptied.

Morgan, Blanche and Virion stood at the tent's entrance, taking reports from officers as they relayed the status of their units. Cherche stood to the side, entertaining Cynthia's hyperactivity while Gerome kept a watchful eye on his wife.

Casualties had been low, even lower than Morgan's most optimistic projections. By the time the scattered Valentians had even reached the trenches, her men were already pulling back to the next line of defense. Their minimal equipment loss was made up for the carts of goods they'd stolen from the forward camps.

From the battle damage estimates, they had killed or injured at least a fifth of the invading army. The rest routed in panic from the explosions, mages and archers. Judging from the equipment they'd stolen, armor was to blame.

Both military leaders came to the conclusion that most of the Valentians weren't well outfitted. Their mages were given basic, cheap tomes. Their armor lacked a chainmail underlayer. Most of their weapons were iron or bronze, compared to the steel spears and swords Ylisse had shipped over to supply their allies.

Discipline was also unremarkable. The rabble had chosen to press on even after all organization had fallen apart. Their dedication was strong, it borderlines on zealous. But it was also uncontrolled. If anything, Morgan was questioning if the leader of the Army had ordered the attack himself or a large amount of his sub-commanders decided to charge ahead for glory.

This was good. It made them predictable. And it tipped the odds greatly in their favor if they continued to mitigate their numerical advantage.

"If things continue like this, we may be able to sue for armistice." Virion noted, almost unable to hold back his joy. He'd seen the ledgers back home, this war was already breaking Roseanne's bank. Any longer and he'd likely have bread riots on his hands.

"Wait until we have all the reports in, your Highness." Blanche commented, shifting another purple piece into the greater formation. The Brigadier was organizing smaller groups of her men into new raiding parties, ready to continually harass the new Valentian forward encampment. "They may have more tricks up their sleeves."

"I've already sent scouts to survey them." Morgan commented, pointing at a blue horse-piece sat close to where the new enemy base was marked. "Unless their mages can teleport things…"

"Excellus." Blanche reminded, standing straight as she finished up her designs. "He used to pop in and out of Steiger at a whim."

"That pig was also Grimleal. The Valentians wouldn't use magic of that depravity." Virion commented himself.

The tent flaps were pushed open as a new figure walked themselves inside. A green haired soldier with a dented breastplate and her helmet clearly missing. It was more ornate than the average member, which denoted some kind of rank.

Blanche and Morgan turned around as she approached, the soldier lifting her arm to salute the War Cleric.

"Stand down." Blanche instructed, which the woman easily did. She looked battered beyond her armor. Scratches and cuts were clearly marking her face, mud caked her uniform and dirt intermingled with her hair. "What's brought you here?"

"I'm here tuh report for the hundred n'eighth ma'am." The woman croaked, voice hoarse and stricken. Common for people who'd spent the day yelling their lungs out. She extended an arm that held a scroll, bandaged and bloody. "M'name's the one on the scroll."

Both Morgan and Blanche looked at one another, confused. Blanche took the scroll in hand, opting to continue questioning the woman in front of her. "And where are your company's officers, Sergeant Major?"

Gwen exhaled loudly, trying to wipe her face clean of what muck was stuck to it, only succeeding it in making it smudge even more. "My Lieutenant's in a sick-tent. I had tuh write the report myself, it ain't uh… formal."

"And where's the Captain?" Morgan asked. More demanded, her voice rose sharply as she spoke. The others who still remained all turned towards the scene, curious as to what was going on now.

Gwen didn't answer. She stood there, rubbing her arm nervously as Morgan's murky purple eyes bore into her. Any words she tried to say died in her throat, red and cracked.

Not taking the silence for an answer, Morgan stepped forward and asked again. Both her hands grabbed hold of the soldier's breastplate, dragging the taller woman down to her own level. The tactician repeated the question once more, teeth grit as her fingers dug deep into the steel they held onto.

" **Where. Is.** _ **Your Captain?"**_

* * *

 ** _A/N: Finals are finally done, which means I can write again! Huzzah! Though there's probably gonna be a bit of a gap for the next chapter as I'm working on an Interim draft (Shameless plug, I know)._**

 ** _Battlefield leadership is an odd mess to handle in fantasy settings. Often times we see leaders leading the charge and cutting down people like a common grunt. This is cool. This also isn't how chain of command works. For the Shepherds it made some sense because they were a small group, but when thousands of people are fighting then it's a whole different ballgame._**

 ** _Also, Gerome and Cynthia are here now. Ohboi._**

 ** _Review responses!_**

 ** _The Greatest of the Short Ones: I actually was thinking about giving Caeldori the axe, but then I figured it wouldn't help the story much. Dying from one fireball'd be a bit anti-climactic. But the scene seems to have had the desired effect. Heheheheh._**

 ** _Crusader Jerome: Another footnote for my editing sprees, noted._**

 ** _H. Uzumaki: Purgatory's something that isn't really touched on in literature much. There's the afterlife, real life, but not mentioning what comes in between. Figured a little trip into that rabbit hole'd be good for the soul. Readers and Severa included. As for Lucina's mention, it's a bit of a throwback to the other stories I've written. All of my fics are inter-connected. Though it can be a bit jarring if people aren't following so, I see your point._**

 ** _Until next time guys_**

 ** _o/_**


	28. C-22: Regret, Regret, Regret

My mind was quiet for the longest time after that. Just me and that little girl, curled up next to the fire as silence loomed over us. I doubt either of us knew what to say to each other. She was too afraid and I was too on edge. I didn't want to leave the flames. It was warm, and it made me feel safe. And after that little shouting match with myself, there was a lot of confusion riled up in me.

Another me in my head. Explains the voice, but doesn't explain where she came from. The idea of my mind fracturing into different personalities is… honestly horrifying. Pieces of me fighting over control. What if they split further? What other parts would show up? How much would I end up dividing until there was nothing left?

Never thought I'd know what Anankos ever felt like, but… well, this is certainly a start. Then again I'm not an all powerful dragon that's capable of mass genocide. If I go nuts, hopefully I can go nuts quietly. Somewhere I can't hurt anyone.

Was that really what I was like before I left for Valla? Was I that evil? I… I was a mean person, I know that. I tore down everyone around me, hated the world I was trying to fix, self centered to a fault. But I cared. I _always_ cared.

Whenever I screamed at my parents or my friends, I was trying to help them. I was sarcastic because I didn't know how else to act. If I could avoid hurting someone, I did. I knew why we came back. I wanted to make things better for everybody.

Someone like her, they don't get better. Goading me into trying to murder people. Beating people up for fun, enjoying all the broken bones. That's never been me. So what am I missing here…

There's too much going on. The war, the risen, keeping my family safe. I can't add 'going insane' onto that list. There's too many people here counting on me. I haven't survived through everything just to be broken now. Not when I'm this close to finally getting what I've always wanted.

This thing thinks it's me? Not even close. I know who I am. I'm a Gods damned hero. I've saved two worlds back to back, survived an apocalypse, killed dragons, jumped through time _and_ between worlds. And you know something? I'd do it all again, Because the rest of these losers clearly can't be trusted.

I am **not** going to turn into that witch. When I wake up I'm dragging myself back to Roseanne and finding my family again. Then we're going to end this, once and for all. Then we're going to Ylisstol, and I'm going to live out the rest of my life in peace. Raise my family somewhere quiet.

Her question rings through my ears on last time. Why did I leave in the first place.

That's easy. I was running away from my mistakes.

* * *

It was two years after we killed Grima.

Ylisstol didn't get sacked again. Grima'd spent all of his time here around the Dragon's table for a reason I didn't understand. In the future as soon as he'd been reawakened, he immediately went to work wiping out humanity. But I didn't look a gift horse in the mouth.

At this point we'd all accepted that my father wasn't coming back. We'd spent months searching the whole continent for him. From Plegia to Ferox, every nook and cranny. Even Say'ri and Virion chipped in, staying behind before they returned back to their real home.

He'd been given a state funeral like any other Grandmaster would have. It was like the whole halidom came out for the ceremony. Watching an empty casket get paraded through the city, guarded by soldiers. Men and women he never met were crying as he passed.

They… they didn't even know what he'd done for them. All they remembered was the tactician who'd helped win the Second Plegian War. The man who made sure Valm never invaded. He was a hero. He was a Shepherd. For them that was enough to warrant coming out.

I remember the place they buried it. An open field on the outskirts of the city, flowers all around a small tombstone. No great monuments or landmarks, nothing fancy. Mother said it was what he would've wanted, to be somewhere serene. After everything I think he would've joined the peace and quiet.

I remember coming back the day after. Staring at the hole in the ground I was supposed to pretend had my Father inside.

I remember screaming at it until my throat went red, then falling into a puddle of tears. Dunno how I got home but, next day I woke up in my Mother's guest room.

Dragged myself out of the bed and washed my face up. Saw that someone, probably Mother, cleaned and pressed my outfit. Put that on, did my hair and left. Went straight downstairs. Moved quick and quiet so I didn't wake up the Morgan and Me from this world. I avoided them on principle already, they didn't need me in their lives.

"Leaving so soon?" I heard a voice call from the other room, hairs sticking out on the back of my neck. I turned around and looked inside, frowning like I always did back then.

Mother was there in her rose nightgown, soberly smiling at me in the living room. Two couches surrounding a table, two cups of fresh coffee with steam still curling up. Dawn sun was the only light in the room, reflecting off the side of her face. She was doing her best to put on a brave face for all of us. But I knew her well enough to see she was as broken up as me.

"I need to get my new assignment from Chrom." I lied easily, standing in the door frame with both hands resting on my hips. His royal perfectness gave me the week off from any new contracts, said he could find another mercenary for them.

"I doubt he's awake at this time of day sweetie." Mother crooned, patting the seat next to her on the furniture. Reluctantly my feet pulled me over to her, sitting down and slouching back against the soft cushions. The coffee was messing with me, I still felt half-asleep and hadn't eaten since yesterday's lunch.

"Guess you'd be right there if he was." I spat, immediately regretting it. I turned over to look, scrambling to apologize. But her expression didn't change. If anything, all that came from her was a soft laugh.

"I _am_ his bodyguard." She answered. Then and there I thought she didn't catch onto what I meant, but I guess I never did give Mother enough credit. "But he isn't important right now. How are you?"

How was I? Well, I was an emotional wreck for starters. I didn't even know where I'd head to after I left the house, probably dally around the castle or something. I hadn't felt this terrible since my first nights in Hobart, lying awake in bed and staring at the expanse. Wondering if all of this was even real.

I decided to let my guards down. My shoulders slumped and I cautiously leaned forward, grabbing the mug and spinning it around in my hands. Light brown, extra cream. Damn it she always made it the way I liked it.

"Horrible." I admitted, watching the beverage aimlessly swirl in the cup. "I didn't… I can't believe he's actually gone."

"Hm." Mother mumbled, waiting to let me continue. When I didn't, she took up her own cup. "I was surprised when you showed up yesterday. Usually you spend most of your days in the castle."

"I don't even remember coming here." I reply, still staring downwards. "I was at the gravestone, then somehow I woke up in the house."

"Well I'm glad you're here at least." She comforted, blowing away her mug's steam and letting it dance away from us. "Certainly better than spending the night asleep out there."

As she took a sip from her mug, a long silence fell between us. The morning birds started calling out to each other, and the sun kept rising higher and higher. Soon enough we were both shrouded in the soft shadows of the early morning. Heat was baring down on my neck, and it made me more antsy.

"Why him?" I croaked out, looking over to my mother as she stared back at me. "Why did he have to be the one to go?"

Mother thought about that statement long and hard, gulping down the last of her coffee before giving me any answer. "Because, Severa. I married a fool."

That was the last thing I expected her to say. Different reactions all raced into my head, ranging from screaming to throwing my lukewarm coffee into her bed tousled head. But I didn't do any of that, I squeaked at her. Like a _mouse_ , it was pathetic.

"Naga said we could have sealed Grima away. He would have been gone for… how many millenia more?" She explained. "Long after any of us had passed on. Even if they managed to create another vessel." She laughed again, but curter this time. More bitter. "But your Father, you know how he is."

' _Nobody is expendable.'_ That saying of his echoed through my eardrums once again. My chest started feeling heavy.

"...He apologized to me right before." Mother said, her fingers drumming against the now empty mug. The dull taps echoing around the room. "Told me he was doing it for everyone. Not you, or me, or your sister. Not even the Shepherds. _Everyone_. The whole world. The thought of Grima ever coming back was unbearable to him."

"They weren't his responsibility." I muttered.

Mother tutted at my remark. "He and I never do these things out requirement."

I huffed. No, no I suppose they didn't. Neither of them ever helped someone just because they were asked to. It's what made people love them, it's also what kept getting them both killed. For all I knew she'd end up dying the same way she died in my world. Trying to save people she didn't have to.

And then I'd have failed all over again.

As far as the others knew, I'd only returned to the past because Lucina had asked me. The only person who had a worse relationship with their parents other than me was Gerome, and even then not by much. That was a lie, of course. Used to do a lot of that in my old life.

"I came back to save you both." I said, pain flowing through my chest. I'd never spoken with anyone about this. "You both died trying to protect me. I had to live with that guilt."

"You think we made the wrong choice?" Mother asked me.

"Sometimes." I answer quietly. "It was harder when I was still a kid. Raising Morgan on my own wasn't easy. Plus you and me didn't really end off on the best terms."

Mother tutted, extending her arm and wrapping it around my shoulders. Even with her own problems, she still felt so warm and comforting. When everything went wrong, her being by me somehow made it all right. Could count the people who did that for me on one hand.

"I messed it all up. There should've been another way."

"He made his own choice Severa." She consoled.

"I was supposed to protect _him_." I lamented. "Everyone else could save both of their parents. Even Lucy saved Chrom, and he was the hardest one to keep alive."

"Dear, you did everything you could. Dare I say more than anyone could have asked for." Mother continued, stroking her hand through my matted hair. "Your father loved you Severa. He never wanted you to fear Grima again. Even if it cost him his own happiness."

"Would you have done the same thing?"

She didn't answer right away, the question mulling in her mind. I could see the gears rotating in her head, knowing that she wasn't sure of the answer herself. It wasn't the response I wanted, I'd hope she'd deny it outright.

I wriggled out of her arms, irritated. Set the mug back down onto the table and stood back up to my feet. I looked down at her, clenching and unclenching my fists as the words in my mind jumbled together.

"Why do you care so much?" I prod. "Seriously, why!? I'm not your kid!"

My hand goes up, pointing to the rooms above us. "They're your kids! I'm just some stranger who looks like them! So why do you care so much about me!? What did I do to deserve this!?"

My arm fell back to my side as I continued with my tirade, chipping my world weary parent apart with words. "You have your life now, why are you still **bothering** with me? I'm still the same disappointment as always!"

"Stop." She declared, voice firm.

"Why? So you can just keep acting like this matters? You don't _owe me_ anything. I'm just some… cosmic extra now. The real me's born, I don't need to be-"

" **Stop, now."** Mother demanded, her voice booming about the room. Biting down on my tongue, I complied, not wanting to dig my grave deeper than I already had.

She stood up to her feet, eyes up as she listened for any motion or movement above us. When she felt comfortable that the toddlers hadn't been woken up, she set her gaze right on me. The death-stares of all death stares. Felt like I'd been caught stealing from the sweets jar all over again.

"I am only going to say this once, so you best listen." She began, jaw clenched. "Do not ever ask me to not care for you. No matter what you say or how you act, that changes nothing. I _am_ your mother, even if I didn't raise you. I care for you as my own because you **are** my own. The fact that you're an different person than your younger sister-"

Another flick upwards with her eyes, focusing on where my younger self's room was."-And she _is_ your sister, changes nothing. You are not some frivolous addition, leftover or _extra_. You are my daughter. You're too much like me and your Father to be anything else."

"But why do you feel that way!?" I shouted back "You've only known me for a few years! How can you care about me so much?!"

"Because I do. Must there be a reason?" She answered back, words hard as stone. "Severa, I do not know if you will ever be a parent given your tastes." She paused as my face blanched, followed by a roll of her eyes. "For Naga's sake, I see how you look at her, do you think I'm dim?"

"Y-you're one to talk!" I stammer out. "Weren't you tripping over Chrom for Gods knows how long!?"

"Why on earth do you think I understand?" She asked, pinching the bridge of her nose before releasing a long exhale. "Though the irony is not lost on me…" She muttered under her breath.

Mother put her mug down, grabbed mine, then offered it over. "Just let yourself be loved, child. It'll help you more than you know."

The memory falls apart. The last discussion I had with her before leaving again. Later that day, Anankos came to the castle and begged for help. Owain, Laslow and I were the only ones there. Why did they agree so fast? I don't know. Probably for better reasons than me.

I was just running from my failures.

* * *

It's night when I finally stir awake.

The crunch of boots walking through the grass echoes into my ears, along with the whinny of a horse. My eyes open to find myself still laying where I was before, face first in the forest at the edge of the clearing. It's so quiet now, I can even hear the water running silently from the river. The battle's long over.

A hand grabs my shoulder and starts pulling me up. I'm still to dazed and weak to resist as I'm moved over and propped up against a tree.

"Hey, hey! I found someone alive here!" The man calls over, and another thunder of footsteps pounding over. The warmth of lamplight enshrouds me, along with the feeling of a hand feeling up and down my form.

When my vision unblurs I see two figures crouched next to me. One's an archer with their bow slung over their shoulder, the other's a cleric fidgeting around in what's probably a medical sack. The archer's head is completely shaved clean, beady eyes bouncing around as he tries to find out if anything's wrong with me. Both are wearing blue outfits.

As his hand reaches the back of my head, I can feel a bolt of pain surge through my brain. As he retracts it back, I can make out the blood covering the tips of his fingers. I'm still bleeding, that explains why I passed out and stayed out.

"Gods, Marilyn. Of all the times to leave your stave at camp-"

"They called the truce on short notice, I'm so sorry that I got caught off guard!" A roll of gauze appears in her hands, she leans forward and starts wrapping it around my forehead.

"Is it that hard to keep a stick with an orb on you?" The man laments

"They're _heavy_." The girl continues to whine as she finishes the dressing.

"Oh wah, wah. I carry a bow, quivers and sword. You just have a stick and a backpack." He answers back.

These two are gonna give me brain damage. I probably already have that from the hit I took. No time to just sit here listening to two nimrods go back and forth with each other.

My hand grabs hold of what's behind me, a tree I think, as I start pulling myself up. One of them tries to take hold of me again, to keep me down or help me up I dunno, but I shove them off and keep standing.

World is spinning. Head banging. Eyes hurting from the lamp. Yep, I am _definitely_ concussed.

"Well don't just stand there, help her." The man, 'Mitchell', orders. His cleric friend catches me just as I lose my stance, helping me stay still.

"What should we do? We're here to grab bodies, not find survivors." She asks.

"We take her back to camp and let a _good_ healer do their job." He says.

The world is a swirling mess of color and chaos. Brown, black and blue merge into one another, making it near impossible for me to even tell where I am or what I see. Every time I open my eyes, it just makes my head hurt even more. The only reason why I'm walking is because this girl's letting me use her as a living crutch.

More voices come after a while, none are paying any attention to me as my battered carcass is half-dragged through the area. I hear random snippets about what's happened since I left the world of the living. Truce is the most common word being thrown around.

They keep moving me along, feet stumbling over the field, both of my impromptu saviors trying to flag down someone who can get to work on me proper. Whether they find someone or not, I don't find out. My world goes back to the dark.

* * *

By the time I'm lucid again, we've left the field entirely. The rumble of the ground rouses me back alive, grumbling as I sit up once more. One rap against the the ground makes a strong echo, and I'm pretty sure I can hear a horse at the front. Carriage, great. Traveling back in style.

"So she finally rises." Someone says, voice dripping with sarcasm. I look to see none other than Virion's own Brigadier sitting above me, staff in hand.

"Two hours. I had to keep you under intensive care for two hours." She starts, tapping the floorboards with the bottom of her mending stave. "I could have spent that time fixing countless other patients, but no. You had to be almost broken."

As I move to stand, she lifts her staff up quickly and presses the tip against my chest. Before I know it, I'm back against the ground once more. "No sudden movements, you're still very much concussed." She orders.

Begrudgingly, I rise back up into a sitting position and stay there. My body certainly feels better, though my head's still banging heavily like a gong. Not sure if that's the hit I took, my evil twin, or a cocktail of both.

"Honestly, the amount of trouble you've caused today." Blanche kept ranting on, not really paying much mind to me and more to her own anger. "Disappearing for Gods knows how long, do you realize how lucky you are? If we hadn't brokered a period to collect the dead, we likely would have never found you."

"You brokered a what now with who?" I ask in confusion, barely getting a handle on what was going on. When I see the contemptuous look, I just tap my head softly with a finger. "Concussion, remember your Holiness? Give a girl some slack."

"Heavens preserve me…" She says in exasperation. "The Duke sent an offer for truce so we could carry out proper burial ceremonies and find the fallen. They agreed. They agreed _too_ quickly, frankly. Which makes me think their casualties are higher than anticipated."

"Or it's a trap." I grumble, to which she nods in gruff agreement, rubbing my temples as my pain starts to come under control.

"The fact that these invaders are willing to do this makes no sense." She keeps rambling. "Of course your blasted sibling didn't listen to my warnings. No, she and the others had to go flying off to find your corpse."

Others. Guess that means Subaki, Virion and Cherche. Ugh, great. They must've been running up and down the walls trying to find out what happened. That'll be a fun conversation to have. ' _Hey, so I've got a voice in my head telling me to murder everything! Oh, and when I was out cold, I saw her. She looks like me. Plus there's a small child with her, no idea who she is.'_

I need to put myself into an asylum.

Still, it's… nice, knowing that many people are looking out for me.

Blanche seems to notice the positive shift in my demeanor. "Your daughter is fine as well. Percival has treated her injury effectively, she should be able to return to her duties come tomorrow."

Another relief off of my shoulders. She's fine, everyone's fine. I didn't kill my kid, I didn't screw up more. It's fine, it's fine. Everything's turning out fine.

"So where are we going now?" I ask, going up in the air as the cart hits a bump.

"Back to camp so I can organize these funerals." She answers. "Also so you can return to your post."

"Wait, I'm good to fight?" I ask in surprise.

"You are able to _supervise_." She informs through narrowed eyes. "Go into combat and I will make you wish we never found you."

"Didn't our last talk end with you saying you want me dead anyway?" I hiss back, not taking to the threat well.

"And as I told you back in the castle, Volkner. If I wanted you dead, you're body would _already be in a pyre._ " She answers with just as much spite. "Did I heal you or not? Some gratitude would be nice."

My mouth twitches at the idea of giving any good words to this immense pain in my arse. Our little truce is barely hanging together as is, I'd rather just put her on full blast until she can't hear properly anymore.

Thankfully, the voice doesn't indulge my darker desires. "You did a decent job. I'm not bleeding to death, so I guess there's that." I say with not a negligible amount of effort.

This seems to placate her, at least for the time being. She slumps deeper into her seat and runs a hand over her face, wiping off a few drops of either dew or sweat.

"Shouldn't you be back at camp doing, I dunno, 'Brigadier' stuff?" I ask curiously. "Bit dangerous for you to be near the front."

"My duty is to the wounded first. I won't forsake my purpose because of my position." She points out. "And as you've seen, I can handle myself in a scrape."

The picture of her ripping that Risen's arm off flashes in front of my eyes. Yeah, yeah she can.

"This war will end someday. And when it does, I want to make sure I kept more people in this world than I took out." Blanche continues, laying it all out.

"Seems a bit weird for a person of the cloth to be trained in killing." I point out.

She waves a dismissive hand. "The Valmese sect of the Divine Church has long since trained their healers in martial action since the days of Mila. Queen Celica herself was a War Priestess."

"Er… a what now?"

Again she groans. "Must I continue to spout information at you?"

"Well I like knowing things so, yes please?" I ask, only half joking. I do want to know more about what's going on, but ancient Valmese history isn't what I'm actually curious about. "Go back to this truce. What are the rules."

Blanche sits up, adjusting her pinkish steel vambraces a bit. "We are not to engage with one another for a full two days. Neither of us is to attempt to make any territorial gains, perform raids or scout one another out. Once the time has passed, hostilities will resume."

"So your run of the mill armistice." I add, which Blanche nods to in confirmation. "Why isn't Virion suing for a proper treaty?"

"Their leader refused for the time being. Once the conflict resumes we will continue as planned."

"And that is…?"

"You'll receive your orders when you need them." She says, cutting off my request entirely. Great, she'll tell me a bunch of useless crap but not everything of what I need. "But yes, those are the terms."

I take a seat across from her, rubbing where my shoulder's buckler once was before it got sliced off. Probably have a new scar on my arm because of that axe wielding maniac, and she's still out for blood. Lovely.

My mind starts running a mile a minute as I try to think of the reasons why they'd agree to even terms so easily. Maybe we'd stunned them into holding their advance? They probably weren't planning on launching an attack, what with how their camps weren't marshaled. But there's no way we wiped out enough of their people to make them turn tail and run.

"Exactly how well did the mines work?" I ask.

"Disturbingly so. There is more green in those fields from Valientian uniforms than grass."

"Enough to cause a rout?"

"After a while, yes. But they've clearly reorganized."

"...Have there been any Risen sightings around here?"

Blanche raises a brow, but shakes her head. "No. But there have been reports deeper within our borders. We're planning to dispatch troops to handle it."

"Are they still coming from the southwest?" Another nod. "How many?"

"Five sightings. One attack, but it was repulsed." She informs, before leaning atop her staff. "What are you thinking, Volkner?"

"Risen don't come from nowhere." I say. "The dead naturally become them. All of these corpses should be shambling around and trying to kill us."

"But they aren't." She points out. "Not a single sentry has reported a terror near this area."

"Which means these aren't the same as Grima's Risen." I point out, drawing out my glove and showing her the Brand of the Defile resting on the back of my palm. "See this? No glow. Whenever Risen are around, my hand turns into a light show."

"...Are you suggesting they're coming from another source?" She asks.

"Morgan _said_ she found new leads yesterday."

"But what else creates Risen other than fell essence?"

I lift both my hands in defeat, turning my palms to her. "Beats me, sister."

"Lovely, back to square one." She grumbles, resting her chin atop a hand. "At least we know the Fell Dragon cannot have a hand in this."

"Grima can't come back, we made sure of that." I manage, looking down at the wood as I slip my glove back on.

"How are you certain?" She asks. "When your First Exalt defeated him in the past, he still managed to rise again. The Grimleal found a way, something about a 'vessel'."

"Naga gave us an alternative, we used it. It worked." I answer resolutely, now twiddling my fingers together. "It had to have worked…" I repeat, more trying to assure myself than anything. If Grima was still alive after all that happened, I think I'd finally snap.

Blanche, empathetic as always, leans forward and places a hand on my shoulder. I can feel it squeeze as I keep staring at the wood, pinning myself in place. "I apologize. Given your parentage I should not be casting… doubt." She consoles.

It doesn't help much, but it's enough to get me to stop fidgeting. Still, she presses on with her talk. "Many people on Valm still remember your father as a liberator. He died well, Miss Volkner. Should we all be so lucky."

The cart comes to a halt, both of our heads popping up to see that we've arrived at out destination. Lamps light the paths of the canvas city I've come to call home this past month. A guard patrol make their way through, offering Blanche assistance out of the wagon. She refuses, meanwhile I'm here with bloody bandaging around my head and I'm walking without help.

As the soldiers leave us be, she gives me one final glance. "Will you return to your quarters?"

My head shakes, stirring another shock of pain through the brain. "Ugh… no. I'm… Caeldori's still in the medical tent, right?"

"Percival's been hovering over her constantly in there." She says, before giving me a dismissive wave. "Go, go. See your child and get a concoction from the quartermaster. I shall be returning to my post."

She starts leaving, hefting her staff and axe out from the cart and walks away towards the center of the spread out tapestry estate. My hand travels down to the sword on my hip, just making sure that the silver blade's still there.

"Blanche." I call out, the Cleric pausing and looking over her shoulder.

"Thank you." I say. "For helping me, you didn't have to."

"I rarely do things because I _have_ to, Captain." She answers with a smirk. "But let us avoid making a habit of this, lest people think we are becoming amicable towards one another."

She offers me a farewell wave with her staff, before continuing on her path. I stand there for a while longer, mulling over everything that's happened today. A fight in the woods, nearly getting killed, arguing with myself, more bad memories of my past, and then another 'friendly' conversation with the resident zealot.

Hrm. Friends with a hyper-religious axe murderer. Well it wouldn't be the first time.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Well this was a heavy chapter to put out. I think we're all due for a nice dose of family fluff come next time**_

 _ **o/**_


	29. C-23: The Future Present

I reached the medical tents soon after we parted ways.

Walking past each one, I could see what was inside through the open flaps. For the most part, the beds were empty. Healers inside seemed to be spending their time talking with one another, taking inventory or simply killing spare time. I didn't have to listen to the groans of the dying or smell blood and broken bones. Everyone seemed to be in good spirits.

One of the guards pointed me towards where the wounded officers were being held. Blanche said Caeldori was still being treated, and that my spectacled field surgeon was going out of his way to keep an eye on her. Could've just assigned one of his juniors to handle it, unless she was really on the edge.

No, if she was really far gone then Blanche would have told me. Odds are she's probably sleeping, and Percy's off doing whatever he likes doing when he's got free time.

...Come to think of it, those two spend an awful amount of time together.

They always ate with one another at meals. She'd asked him for lessons with a stave, that irked me on a personal level. They swapped books, talked about music. They even stood next to one another in formation.

I swear to Naga. If this is going where I think it is, I'm feeding him my sword and finding a new surgeon. Of all the problems I've got going on right now, I'm not gonna add 'daughter dating' to the list. She's never even had a boyfriend before. Well, pretty sure she hasn't.

Where's that tent? Here. Finally.

As I push the flap open, I'm greeted by a whole lot of… nothing. All of these beds are empty. Few of them look recently vacated but, vacated nonetheless.

So my vision shifts to focus on one of the Priests in the room, none other than Percival himself. Slip two fingers into my mouth and release a quick whistle.

As he turns to face my direction, I hold my hand up right as his face morphs from curiosity to shock. "Spare me the 'You're OK', I know I'm OK." I immediately instruct him, to which he happily bobs his head. "Caeldori, where the hell is she?"

"Her tent." Percy informed me after a moment, shaking his head clear of the residual surprise. "After I fixed her up, I told her to relax." He takes pause for a bit, staring at me. His eyes glazing up and down like I'm liable to spontaneously combust.

"Any reason why you're undressing me with your eyes?" I ask, getting him to snap his vision back up at my face. "I'm not a ghost, so stop looking at me like one."

He nodded again, sighing as he walked back over to a table covered in various vials and powders. The Priest sat down, releasing an exhausted sigh."Gods above, I've been praying all day that you were still alive. Caeldori was beside herself."

"Reason why I came here, the Brigadier said she was still in treatment." I tell him, going over to the table and sitting down at the edge.

"Didn't even know she was aware of what happened." He commented, relaxing even further. "Thank the Divine Mother for this miracle."

"Yeah, sure." I answer in annoyance. Naga, Naga, Naga. It's always Naga's will with these religious types. Not me, no. I can't do anything by myself, it always has to be some Dragon fixing all of our problems for us. Forget about how they're usually the ones causing them.

Regardless, I change gears. "Are you alright?" I ask him, his head perking up from the lazy slouch he's settled into. "It's been a long day, a lot of people got beaten up. Must've been a big load for you to handle."

He smiles, shaking his head and twiddling his thumbs. "It's fine. Plenty of other Priests and Clerics around here to help. Besides, I like this job."

"Healing people gives you those warm fuzzies?" I mock playfully.

"Yeah, but… well that's not the only reason." He grabs a pair of vials, both of them half-filled with some sort of opaque liquid. Percy pours one into the other, the color swirling and spiraling into a glowing red concoction. I can feel myself tense at the change, but he seems pleased with the results.

"I'm gonna go find Caeldori…" I tell him, trailing off.

"Don't." He said, placing both vials back onto the counter. "She needs bedrest to make a full recovery, and after today you probably do as well."

I don't know what he's getting at, until he points to the top of my left arm. Where my shield was, and now a big scar was in its place. "Tissue pattern doesn't line up with a stave's work. That mark's probably never going to go away." He observes.

"Something is definitely up with you." I cut in, adjusting myself. "Normally you're quivering in your boots by now, this is the longest we've held a conversation without you wigging out."

"...Maybe I'm just getting used to you." He mumbles. "I've known you for a while now, Miss Severa. I think I've got your personality nailed down."

"Really?" I ask, smirking. "Enlighten me then." Poor boy looks at me, flabbergasted. Guess this is the first time I've given him permission to let loose on me.

"Well… you're loud. And angry. And completely terrifying." He looks over to me, already flinching as he expects me to blow a gasket at him. Tempting as it is, I stay silent, making a hand motion for him to continue. "You're also really pessimistic, which is weird. I thought Ylisseans were more friendly."

"I _know_ I've heard this all before." I grumble to myself.

"You like being in charge and stepping on people. You're… pretty violent. Watching you fight is scary."

"I fight strangely?"

"You don't hesitate." He clarifies. "My parents told me even during Walhart, most soldiers flinched when they had to fight. But you don't, you just _go_ and start tearing things apart. It's like you've spent your entire life fighting."

"Hrm." I reply. His image of me isn't surprising, considering what he's seen me do and how I act. A big part of me never left the old future. Combat day in and day out, fighting was who I was. Hesitation only got me hurt or worse.

"So why're you OK with following my lead?" I ask. Honestly, I've been meaning to ask him since the Vincent incident. I completely expected him to jump ship.

He contemplates this, lacing his fingers together and playing war with his thumbs. "I don't know." He admits. "I shouldn't be, honestly. You check all the boxes of a pretty terrible person."

Percy falls silent, his thumbs ceasing their movement as the words he's been trying to say finally come together. "But terrible people don't try to save others. So I guess following my gut was right."

He looks at me, waiting for some kind of response. But I really don't have one. All I know is that I got what I wanted from him; he trusts me. Gwen trusts me. I think my men do too, if they were willing to try and save me from getting sliced and diced.

I push myself up, yawning casually and rolling my shoulders. "Well, I'm going to bed." I declare in the most nonchalant tone I can manage. "I want our casualty report on my desk tomorrow morning."

"Sh-shouldn't you stay here? You're obviously hurt." He asked, trying to stand up before I stare him back down into his chair.

"I already got told to sleep by someone further up the food chain than either of us." I tell him, then point at the gash on my outfit. "This isn't my first scar anyway. You've never seen me topless."

Poor boy, he transforms into a tomato when I say that. Percy immediately buries his face in his hands and spins his chair around, facing in the complete opposite direction as he tries to get back to work.

Smiling in victory, I take my leave and head out of the tent. Maybe it's best that I do as I'm told and head to sleep. Caeldori's either passed out or snuck off on her own, and in either case it won't do any good for me to follow. May as well get some rest after this insanity filled day.

But I try not to focus on that. My mind's still hanging on Percy's words.

He trusts me. Even through all the doubts and fears, he still trusts me. Gwen does too, hell she probably feels terrible after what happened. And if I had to guess, the rest of my guys do too. You don't run headfirst into mages to try and save someone you don't care about.

Why. Why do people always give me the benefit of the doubt. I've never made anything of it.

I'm not like the other kids, I never lived up to my family name. Never turned into the leader people needed like Lucina. Never became their hero of justice, that was Owain. I couldn't even manage to stay hopeful and happy, but Inigo did. And their parents both died right in front of them.

Everyone I know surpassed me. But people still trust me.

That's a good a start as any.

* * *

I wake up the next morning with three red blurs hovering right above my head.

The night had been a dreamless sleep, thankfully. I'd lost consciousness as soon as my body slammed into the cot. Even after spending the better part of the day trapped in my own mind, my body was beyond exhausted. Which makes sense, I'd spent all morning fighting and running for my life.

But my vision does start to clear up. And what I see finally lets me relax.

Subaki's sitting on my right side, looking like he'd spent the better part of the morning here.

He's trying to play it off but I can see the bags under his eyes. His ponytail's only half done, the long mane of hair that usually slips back drooping lazily. Even his outfit's a bit undone, covered in wrinkles and folds. He's missing his shoulder guards as well, like he rushed over here.

My husband's probably been just as worried as Caeldori was. Probably even more, he went out to find me and didn't find _squat_. I'm still groggy, but I manage to move a hand over. I place it over his, giving his digits a light squeeze.

I can feel his thumb gently stroke across my knuckles in response. Small gesture, but it's instantly calming. Let's me know that we're safe and everything is alright, or at least as alright as everything can be.

We sit there like that for a long time. No grand gestures. Neither of us leaping into the other's arms. Just holding his hand in mine, feeling the warmth flow between us. The same it's always been, no matter where we were.

Just like the inn, my own little happy place.

"You're OK?" I finally ask him, voice soft from my recent rousing.

"I'm the one who should be asking that." He answers in a similarly muted tone.

"You're always the one who's asking that." I parry. "Now, is anything wrong? Did something happen to you?"

"Nothing. We completed our objectives, I wasn't hurt at all." He tells me. "We won, stopped the whole enemy advance in their tracks."

"And you didn't take any stupid risks?" I ask, very well aware of the hypocrisy in my words.

Subaki is as well, but he doesn't make mention of it. Actually he averts his eyes, looking to a bare corner of the tent. "Uh… I may have lead a charge or… three."

"Excuse me." I ask him, completely horrified. The mood of the room flips on its head. I can almost hear glass shatter as my revierie's broken.

He winces at my sudden change of tone. "The enemy tried to restart their attack. I had my men harass them so they couldn't reorganize. A few quick strikes, nothing more."

"We were supposed to retreat." I mutter.

"We did, but you also went off mission from what I heard." He counters.

His reference makes me get very defensive, very fast. Shooting up in my bed into a proper sitting position. "Th-that's different! We didn't have time to retreat, they were moving too quickly to outrun!"

"But we were _supposed_ to retreat." He answers smuggly, killing my argument with my own words. As I growl at him, he just beams over in victory, now using both of his hands to cradle my own. "You really are quite beautiful when you're angry."

I'm pretty sure I'm fuming now, certainly feels like I'm burning up. Enough to make Subaki backpedal a bit and lift his hands in surrender. But he's still got that smug little smirk on, knowing he's got me beat.

"Yeah. Well I'm the prettiest girl you've ever seen, remember?" I brag, deflecting my frustrations and hopping up off of my bed. Gods, I still feel stiff as a wooden board. Need to go to the sparring field and loosen up after this.

"There has never been any doubt." He compliments, before he comes forward and wraps me up in a soft embrace.

Funny, all those corny love books that Mother used to read always went on and on about the feeling of a strong man's arms. I never feel that with him. Sure, Subaki's stronger than I am, but whenever he's cradling me… it's like he's trying to hold a bird. Tight enough to keep me still, but loose enough so I feel free.

I can feel myself drifting away again, back into bliss. And as much as I want to stay here, there's still things to be done.

So I stand up onto my toes and tilt my head to the side, stealing a quick kiss from his lips before going back down. He looks a bit surprised at my sudden motion, which I can't help but giggle at.

"I wasn't gone that long." I point out. "So no crying, no 'I missed you'. Everything's fine, OK?"

He looks at me, his face contemplating what I told him. Nothing's fine at all, I'm falling apart at the seems. My mind's rupturing and I'm not sure if I can stop it. Maybe it's because of Anankos, maybe it's because of Grima. Maybe it's because I've jumped through one portal too many.

I know he'd want me to tell him about it, because he'd want to help. He told me back in Virion Keep to come to him if I ever reached this point.

But I can't tell him. He's already done so much for me. Just being here, holding me like this. I'm not sure if he'll ever know how much that means.

I need to show him I care.

"Let's find someplace we won't get interrupted." I offer, nodding my head over to the flap of my tent. "We should talk about what we're going to do when we leave."

"You have a plan?" He asked, to which I shake my head.

"No. Honestly, I don't know what I'm doing at all anymore." I tell him. "But… well, like I said. We'll figure it out. But we need to go _figure_ it out."

He let the idea settle in his mind, I could see him process what I'd told him through his expression. Maybe he's wondering I wasn't rushing to go see Caeldori. Or maybe he's surprised that I'm even bringing this topic up _now_ of all times.

So am I, honestly. But we need to get this ball rolling.

* * *

The camp's beyond quiet.

Most of the soldiers have already left again, off to keep collecting the fallen or to set up the defenses for when this truce inevitably falls apart. The only people left behind seem to be healers and mages, the ones not physically suited for busy work.

Even my command tent was empty. No one, not even Caeldori seemed to be around. Just stacks of papers I'd need to return to.

Right, paperwork… y'know, maybe the coma wasn't so bad.

Whatever, something to do after this chat.

Subaki told me to meet him in the stables. Apparently it was the quietest place in camp right now, with almost all of the horsemen off patrolling and scouting. The smell would be terrible, sure. But it meant less chance of someone stumbling in on us and interrupting. Because if there's one thing I've figured out about my life, it's that someone always interrupts my conversations.

My mind keeps drifting back to Caeldori. Last night I was rushing at the chance to see her, now the idea's actually terrifying me. Probably because I'm the reason she even had to visit the medical tent. The guilt's hanging around my neck like a noose. Still, avoiding my own flesh and blood's not going to work either.

I'll speak with her after this. Once we have a plan about what we're doing next, it'll give me something to talk about other than my galling failure to keep her safe.

When I do reach my destination, my head cranes up to take a look at it.

It's another magical two story structure the mages slapped together. Wood and splits shimmering as the hexes holding them in place assault my senses. Again I can feel my head condense, it's even worse now because of the leftovers of this concussion.

Oh Gods, I'm gonna be sick… don't puke. Do NOT puke.

Somehow I force myself inside, despite every fiber of my body telling me not to. And I'm greeted by…

Subaki. Standing next to a pegasus. A reddish brown pegasus.

...You've got to be freaking kidding me.

" **You kept him!?"** I shout, looking at the mount in total horror. Of all the things he could've brought back from the forest, this was what he chose? The stupid winged horse with an attitude!?

"The other option was to leave him behind, and that seemed rather cruel." He explained with a shrug, patting the four hooved embodiment of evil along it's dark snout.

The pegasus' head turns to look over at me, and I swear to Naga I can see him _grin._ I know what you're thinking, pegasi can't grin right? That's impossible! Well this one can. Even it's lips can't curl, it's just beaming pure sass at me.

"Anyway, I figured we could ride for a bit around camp." Subaki explains, stepping away from the target of my loathing and moving to the opposite side. He guides out his own horse, a brown and white spotted thing. It's… older than most, but he still likes it. And it hasn't fallen out from under him in combat.

Well, I'm OK for a little riding. Means less time stuck in this house of headaches.

"Where's mine?" I ask as I walk forward, noting that the other stables all seem to be empty. Honestly I'm not surprised given what he told me, but it's going to be hard to ride with both of us on one horse. Romantic or not.

He points back across to the mangy mutt he was standing next to before, and I turn back. That's when I notice there's a saddle on him, along with my rapier. Before it was hidden by the wings.

"You've got to be kidding." I grumble, looking over my shoulder. "We've been over this, pegesai and I don't mix."

"Well he won't let me ride him." Subaki tells me, pulling himself up into the saddle of his own horse and taking up the reigns. "Believe me, I tried. Moment I put my foot in the stirrup, he started kicking about."

"And what makes you so sure he'll let me on?" I ask, glowering at my unwanted ride. "Pegesai choose their riders, you know that."

He merely offered me a shrug, edging his horse forward so he was next to me. "Then I'll let you ride Bishamonten. Poor boy can't handle us both, but I don't mind walking."

I keep my eyes focused forwards. He knows I won't make him walk, which means he wants me to ride this thing.

Why? I don't know. I don't even know why he brought it along. It's an enemy pegasus, we found it after I beat the snot out of his rider. Heck, when we first saw each other, he shoved his hoof right into my gut!

He probably hates my guts. All pegasi do, they always will.

...And yet…

I lift my hand and tentatively put it on his snout. Slowly, carefully lowering it down. My eyes even close as I expect him to buck me back.

He doesn't though.

My hand settles without any resistance. His fur depresses, filling itself out in between my fingers. It goes up and down as he breaths, his tempo in line with mine naturally. The warmth, too. It flows out, encompassing my hand and travelling up my arm. Soft and… relaxed? Why does he feel so relaxed. Why do _I_ feel so relaxed.

I've only seen this thing once, and it feels like I'm reuniting with a long lost friend.

When I open my eyes, I see his staring back at me. Big and brown, like a cup of hot chocolate on a table. They're swirling, yet settled. Focused on me just as much as I am on him. When I pull my hand back, he lifts his head back up and peers down. As if he's waiting to see what I'll do next.

I sigh in defeat, walking around the side and move to mount him. I'm careful with my feet as I slip them into the stirrups, not wanting to hit the scars left behind by the spurs. By the time I'm looking back at Subaki, he's grinning at me in victory.

"How in _Grima_ did you know that would work?" I ask him, words pointed like a blade.

"Educated guess." He answers cryptically, before spurring his steed onwards. I'm left with no choice but to follow.

The ride out of camp is uneventful. A few of the workers and civilians wave at us as he broach the perimeter and go into the field.

We ride opposite of where the battle was. Both to avoid any ambushes and so we have more even ground to traverse. The mines left a number on the landscape, craters and holes littered across like gaping wounds. Even riding back in Blanche's cart, I could see the damage. The mines did… a lot of work. More than I expected. Then again, Morgan came up with them. Of course they blew up spectacularly.

Leaving that stable and going into the fresh air is like I've drunk a vulnary. All my energy comes washing back, the pain and stiffness of the morning disappearing like it never existed. After spending the better part of two days on my back, it's nice to just be alive and moving. Well, technically I'm on something that's moving. But you get my point.

We stop at the top of a small hill, turning around to see the camp off in the distance. It's smaller now, easily a few kilometers out. Didn't even know we'd been gone that long.

"So, your plan?" Subaki asks, pulling out a map and compass.

Plan, right. The reason we're out here to begin with.

"We're leaving as soon as this battle's done." I tell him, his head whipping over with my brash statement. "This has taken way too long and we've already put ourselves at too much risk."

"It's a War, Selena. Of course there's risk involved." He states.

"Reason why we're cutting ourselves off." I say. "We've done more than enough to help Virion and my sister."

"To me that sounds like more reason for us to see this through to the end." Subaki answers, folding his map back together. "Half-measures aren't good ones."

"This isn't our fight." I remind him.

"No, but there are people here who need protecting." He points out, his brow furrowing as I groan in annoyance. "Come now, you've seen the state this place is in. Can you really turn your back on all this suffering?"

"If I was just by myself? No, I'd be here until the bitter end." I answer, before jabbing my finger off in the distance. Over the camp and back towards the forest. "But I'm not. You're here. _Our only child_ is here. That complicates things."

"I'm my own person, I'm well aware of the risks **I** choose to take." He retorts. "As is our daughter."

"Really? Because I seem to remember you telling me she should stay in her deeprealm until after the war." I growl out.

He returns my glare with his own, a low rumble coming from his throat as well. "That was years ago, and she was still a teenager. She's a fully grown woman now, and a fine warrior."

"I don't _want_ her to be a warrior."

"And what if _she_ wants to be one?" He asks me, to which I have no response. "Selena I know you don't want her to suffer the same you did, but she _didn't._ She's no longer a child, she grew up peacefully. What she makes of her life is in her own hands."

"But why does it have to be this!?" I shout, throwing my hands over my head. "Why can't it be something safe!?"

"Because she's a Hoshidan." He tells me, adjusting himself in his saddle. "She was raised by my family's servants in the deeprealms, only natural she accepted my culture's norms."

That earns a snort from me. "Funny how the 'peaceful' Hoshido has it's nobles raised by a warrior culture."

"Only because we had a hostile power trying to destroy us." He answers back with more than a bit of harshness, clearly not taking well to me slighting his homeland. I bite my tongue back a bit, not wanting to say something uncouth. Years in Nohr rubbed off on me more than I'd like to admit.

There's a bit of silence between the both of us, some wind blowing along the surface of the grass as some pedals are pushed about. It's an idyllic scene, honestly. Two mounted riders, on top of a hill in the midday sun, staring over the horizon. Something straight out of a painting.

"I'm proud of her. She's chosen the path of a protector." He says quietly, looking over to me again with the smallest smile. "Like her parents."

"Sometimes, I wish she took more after her caregivers than us." I say begrudgingly, but acquiesce. I can't force either of them to leave, and I should let Caeldori live her own life. And honestly… I'm also proud of her. It takes a lot to be willing to risk your life for someone else. Most people run from bullies, but she runs at them. Spear at the ready.

That won't stop me from being scared for her, but it does make things easier.

"So we're staying?" I ask him.

"Until this is finished. Then we can return to your homeland with your sister and her army." He decides. "And if Caeldori chooses to remain a soldier, then we do not stop her. Alright?"

I nod. "So, what do we do once we reach your home?" He asks me.

"What do you want to do?" I reply. "My family's nobility where I'm from. We could just… retire. Build a house in the sticks."

"Both of us hate the countryside." He says, laughing at the idea. "It's boring, nothing to do! Unless your homeland is nothing but rolling hills."

"There's plenty of cities, nimrod. Don't worry." I tell him. "We can buy a house in the capitol then, borrow some money from my inheritance. And then…"

"We spend the rest of our days, cooped up and bored out of our minds." He finishes, shuttering at the thought. "That sounds just as terrible."

"Yeah, it does." I hum. "Do _you_ want to stay in the military?" I follow.

He thinks for a bit, then shakes his head. "I don't know yet, truthfully. I've been a Knight my whole life, but now… well, I'm in a whole other world."

"Didn't stop me." I joke.

"Har har." He answers. "What about you, what job do you have in mind?"

That has me going for a bit. I've had an idea rolling through my head for a while now. If I'm going to choose something, it has to be something I care about. Most of my skills are centered around killing things, but if I parse them apart then they can be used in other tasks.

Growing up, even when things fell apart, I always loved shopping. There was something amazing about running through a store and buying whatever caught my eye. But usually whatever caught my eye was clothes. Dresses, gowns, bows and skirts. Long sweeping ensembles that took hold in my imagination.

Whenever I wasn't fighting, I could picture myself wearing those dresses. Plus I took it upon myself to make sure all of us looked a _bit_ presentable. I did Morgan and Cynthia's hair, helped keep all the clothes clean and set. Patched holes that the risen tore and even designed a few protective vests. Heck, even the outfit I used to wear was my own design.

I didn't think I could make much of it. Well, until I met Oboro. Another Hoshidan retainer, who also did side work as a designer. She somehow managed to handle both sewing and combat, and she was great at both. Plus between the two of us, we were the only fashion conscious people in an army of walking disasters.

With everything done now… well...

"I wanna be a seamstress." I tell him. "Open up my own shop in the city, start a whole new era of high fashion."

Subaki turns his head, puzzled. I just keep explaining it to him. "Seriously! I've got so many notes of how people from Hoshido and Nohr dress! If I can fuse that with the style of dress here, I'd have an entire market cornered! In a few years we wouldn't need help from anyone, assuming I managed to get the business off the ground."

"Do you even know the first thing about commerce...?" He asks me, clearly not buying it.

"Oh come on, how hard can it be?"

"Extremely." He points out. "Most merchants are ruthless, they'll try and hoodwink you for everything we have."

"Then it's a good thing I'm not easily tricked." I affirm.

"Says you and everyone else who's been swindled." He points out, shaking his head. "You're sure about this?"

"Why are you so against it?" I ask him, taken aback by the less than stellar response.

"Because…" He starts, rubbing the back of his neck. "...I don't want to be your mannequin."

That response makes me stare at him. "You're afraid I'm going to make you my assistant." I say, and he bobs his head.

"Subaki." I start. "I love you, but you have the fashion sense of a newt."

"That's… hurtful." He mumbles.

"It's also true. So no, I won't be asking for your help." I tell him. "But what do you want to do? Seriously, think about this."

Again he shifts nervously in his saddle, eyes flicking over away from me. "Promise you won't laugh?"

"No." I reply. "Now tell me!"

"Fine. I want to be a teacher." He says. Now it's my turn to look surprised, even my mount's wing's shuffle as it senses the sudden mood-shift.

"You know as a retainer I had to train people." He explains. "And… well, with the time I've spent here, teaching these people… I enjoyed it. Passing what I knew onto them so that they could do better."

He looks over, probably expecting me to laugh in his face. But I don't, if anything I lean closer so he knows how seriously I'm taking this.

Satisfied, he continues his explanation. "The best parts weren't when I showed them how to fight, though. There was this one boy who was put under my command. A normal farmer named Nicholas. One day I found him staring at a book, flipping through the pages. When I asked him what he was reading, he said he didn't know."

He laughs softly, face awash with nostalgia. "He was illiterate. He'd lied so he could join, told me he 'signed' his contract by marking it with a large X. So scared of being found out… so over the past few months, I've been trying to teach him."

"And how's that going." I ask.

"Well he can read small sentences." Subaki admits. "But over time, he'll learn. And knowing that I've done something… I taught someone something _other_ than how to fight. It just feels… fulfilling."

"And what about that Hoshidan warrior's honor?" I prod mockingly, to which he scoffs.

"Just because I've spent my life fighting doesn't mean I have other interests." He says, looking back towards the camp. "I didn't know it realize it in Hoshido but… even when I trained other soldiers there, my favorite parts were teaching them. And when I saw them master those skills, it made me feel whole."

The wind kicks up again, blowing a few more pedals around. Some pollen makes it up his nose, and he lets loose a torrent of sneezes. Meanwhile I look back out to the camp, thinking back to the camp. To Caeldori and her childhood.

"There's something else." I say after he finishes his long bout of sneezes. "I uh…" My mind's jumping to find the words. There really isn't an easy way to say this.

Now he's looking at me, worried. Judging by how red my face feels and the expression I'm giving off, he probably thinks I'm sick or something. May as well be… should I even ask him this? We've got enough on our plates, and well… this is actually a big decision. He might not even wanna do it! And I kind of need him to want to if we're even gonna. Then there's how Caeldori might react if it happens, and the rest of my family. How would it even go in Ylisse? Without deeprealms, I don't have that much experience!

Oh Gods, now he looks even MORE worried.

Screw it, rip it off like a bandage. If he gets mad, then I know the answer.

Deep breath. In and out, IN and OUT. You can do this. You can do this.

And I do it. I blurt it out then and there, with no lead up or explanation.

"I want to have another kid."

* * *

 _ **A/N: I really don't have an excuse as to why this took so long, sorry everyone.**_

 _ **On the plus side, I'll be trying to pump out the next chapter quicker than my usual timeframe. That, plus an update to my other fics**_

 _ **Until then, I hope everyone's having a happy summer**_

 _ **o/**_


	30. C-24: What Will Come

Not long after that, we returned to the stables.

It was a long, quiet ride. Subaki didn't know what to say, or how to respond. I'm not even sure he could really process the idea. Having another child after everything we've been through, and with how we ended up with Caeldori. Being a father in a land he doesn't understand, trying to raise them when he had no real practice.

I feel terrible, dropping a load of bricks on him like that. I could've easily just waited until after we were done here before asking. Once we were back in Ylisse, once things were calm. But I decided to run my mouth about something this important when this isn't the time or the place.

He stops his horse right at the door of the stables, looking over his shoulder at me. For once in my life, I can't read what's going through his mind.

"...If we did this-" He begins, my head perking up at the words. "-I need to know, why?"

"Th-there has to be a reason?" I stammer out nervously.

"Much as I love our daughter, Selena, she wasn't planned." Subaki points out, before stirring his horse forwards. The pegasus I'm on starts off without me even having to direct him, wings pressing close to himself as he trots casually into the makeshift barn.

How do I explain this to him.

We both guide our mounts into their stalls, dismounting them afterwards. I remove my sword from the saddle and sheath it back on my hip, the weight of the blade feeling far too familiar for my liking. I've always felt naked without a weapon.

It's not normal, my life isn't normal, I'm not normal. I'm a time-travelling, world-hopping sword-slinging mercenary with a wagon load of issues and a lifetime worth of self-loathing. But I don't want that. I _want_ to be normal. I want to be happy. Maybe that's a selfish reason, but I've earned the right to be selfish.

"Because I've spent my whole life taking things out of this world, and Caeldori's the only good thing I've brought into it." I answer bluntly. "And we… messed up with her. She's a great girl, and I adore her, but we _weren't there_ for her. And I… want another chance at that."

He gives his horse a quick pat after dismounting, not looking in my direction. I can see his eyes are aimed right at the white mane of the animal, slowly shifting back and forth.

"I know you feel the same way." I press, slowly walking over to him. "The first time we went to visit her, when we saw how big she'd gotten. It broke your heart in half. It was supposed to only have been a few months, and it turned into-"

"Years." He finished, voice lacking his usual pep. His expression is dragged and sullen now, and I can finally read the emotions he's carrying. Regret, and shame.

"Years." I repeat, standing to his flank now. "We missed her first steps, her first words, everything. And when we left, we knew we'd miss even more."

"It was the right choice." He affirms, his shaking voice not making either of us believe him. "We couldn't have raised her on the campaign, no child deserves to grow up surrounded by that."

"I know, love." I mutter, thinking of what might've happened if we didn't send her to the realm. Our army was always under attack by something in Valla, and half the time we never even saw them coming. All it would have taken was one invisible soldier finding their way to her crib and…

No. No, I don't even want to imagine it.

"It was the best choice from terrible options." I comfort. "Sometimes I wish I stayed with her, but…"

"Princess Camilla needed her retainers, especially that deep in enemy territory." He points out.

"Much as I care for Camilla, she doesn't hold a candle to the needs of my own kid." I tell him. "Besides, she had a child of her own. You remember how she was with baby Midori."

"Or how Lady Sakura was when she had Rhajat." He mumbles. "...So why _did_ you all come back?"

I sigh, leaning my shoulder up against the stable post. "Because I wanted to end the war as quickly as possible, and that meant I needed to be fighting. Sooner we dealt with Anakos, the sooner _all_ of our kids would've been safe."

"Even if it tore your heart out." He deducts, to which I weakly nod. "Suppose we shouldn't mope about what's done."

"Hey." I lift a hand, giving him a playful nudge as I force a smirk to my face. "You told me we should talk about the hard things. We might've made our choice, but thinking back is what makes us more prepared for next time."

He huffs, turning around and matching my expression with a weak one of his own. "Turning my own words against me. Usually I'm the one who does that to you."

"And we've talked about this. I've got to be the smart one in this relationship _sometimes._ " I joke, managing to get him to chuckle along with my self-deprecation before he nods himself.

"You're right. Next time, we'll be more prepared." He promises me, both of his hands resting themselves on my shoulders. The bareness of my left arm reminds me that I need to get a new shield.

...Wait. Wait a second.

"Next time?" I ask, my voice growing small as I hope it means what I think it does. I can feel my eyes widen several sizes.

"You were right when you said I feel the same way." He tells me. "But, well…" He clenches his teeth slightly, eyes looking down at the ground as before. "Gods, how do I explain this…"

My husband is more nervous now than I've ever seen him before, I can feel his hands shaking as he holds me. His expression is stricken as well, as if he's about fall to pieces on the barn floor.

I wiggle my arm free, startling him before I hold my hand up to his cheek. Gently I pitch his head up so he's looking at me again, and I smile. The idea that he wants this too fills my heart with more joy than I ever thought I'd feel today.

"I'm scared too." I admit in a quiet voice, feeling my eyes prickle as I open up to the man completely. "But I know you'll be a good father. You're smart, and strong, and honestly amazing. Even if you drive me up the wall, you're the one of the best men I've ever known."

He smiles back, and as he tries to reply, I stand up on my toes again and kiss him. Not like the one I stole before, but a full embrace. Both my arms go to wrap themselves around him, my mind slipping away in the bliss. It's been ages since we were able to do this, week after week of work.

So I'm going to take what I can, and enjoy the scene while it lasts. Before reality comes knocking on my door once again.

* * *

And it did. Because, of course it does. The world doesn't stop turning because I get to have my own little fairy tale moment. You thought it did? What are you, five?

Subaki and I spent the next half hour talking about how we'd go about it all. When we would try again, how it would fit into our lives once we settled down, how we thought Caeldori will react. Both of us agreed that she'd be happy to have a baby brother or sister. Even if I'm holding out for a boy.

Still, I don't want her to think we're trying to replace her.

I remember when Morgan was born. I might be three years older than her, but I know what it feels like to get the limelight pulled from you as a kid. Especially when your sister is better than you at… well, everything. It made me feel second rate, like I was the outdated book and she was the new and improved edition. I love her to pieces, but for a long time there was… resentment there.

Then again, I did basically raise Morgan after what happened. Pain in the arse that was.

We had to part ways, both of us having work to do for another day of nearly dying was over the horizon. We had to make plans, ready our troops, check our orders, take inventory. A whole lot of boring crap I'd rather avoid.

So I went back to my work tent. Found a stack of papers, along with the report I told Percy to give me. Picked them all up, snagged a cup of coffee and a pastry from the Officer's mess, then made my way over to the sparring field.

A bunch of the people from my Company were there. When they saw me sit down, all of them immediately dropped their drills and came running over.

The questions, the confusion, the worry. It felt like I was being swarmed and interrogated by a bunch of mewling toddlers. 'Where have you been?' 'How did you get back?' 'We were worried you got killed!' Gawds, it was aggravating.

They only left after I told them that I'd only been gone for half a day. Then I told them if they didn't finish their practice fights, then _I'd_ take them into the ring. Bare handed. Like **the last time.**

Everyone scattered after that, letting me get back to work. Nice as all the attention was, I'm more keen on making sure no one else dies.

This casualty report isn't as bad as I thought it would be. Ten dead, eleven still in intensive care. Everyone else got out with just scratches and bruises. All the people who made it back to camp are going to survive, probably. At least that's what this is telling me.

Huh… he left a copy of Caeldori's release document too. Nothing broken, no complications. 'Semi-permanent burn scarring' across the back is the worst thing. That glasses wearing weasel, I'll need to thank him for this.

I flip the page to the next set of documents. We're assigned to _perimeter patrol_ for the next few days, great. A ton of walking and boredom. Probably a few ambushes by a cavalry squadron too, just to spice things up. With how flat these old farms are it's perfect for a charge.

Note to self, drill the kids in square formations. Maybe borrow a few cavaliers and have them charge to add some realism. That'd be amusing to watch.

No new supplies to speak of, so we can't repair the damaged uniforms from yesterday. All of the captured weapons are being held in reserve unless an emergency occurs. OK, fine. I don't think anyone's lost their spear and I doubt any broke either. Guess I'll have Gwen do a gear inspection.

Naga's sake this all. So. _Booooring._ How does Morgan sit here in front of maps, charts and lists all day without going crazy? And this is just for my people, she does it for a whole Army!

Gods, I'm going to go stir crazy. Just… let's get this over with so I can do literally anything else.

There's a few transfer papers I can fill out to get some replacements. Good to know some of the other groups have a surplus of people I can leach off from. New guys are gonna need a crash course to get used to how I run things. Fill these out later when I'm at a desk.

Next there's the preliminary Order of Battle… yep, we're in the reserves. Watching the flanks while the Halidom troops and the Virion's regulars handle the main mission. I'd pity the poor bastards, but after seeing the Valentians it'll probably be a cakewalk for them.

Recommendations for commendation? Hrm… well, there was that one guy I saw tackle one of Beril's stormtroops to save his friend's hide. Already had his spear knocked out of his hand and he still ran in head first. Could probably pick him out if I checked the barracks.

Blah blah blah, field reports. Blah blah blah, rules of engagement…

Wait. What's this now? We're getting put under a new chain of command? 'Eighth Militia Infantry Battalion.' Oh, Gods… I'm gonna have _another_ boss!? I already have to do paperwork for Morgan and Blanche, why do they need to add middleman!?

I swear to Naga, I'm gonna have a seizure. People recovering from concussions shouldn't be stressed out this much.

Behind me I can hear the dirt crunching up as someone walks up, but I don't pay it any mind. Just lift my hand and shoo in the general direction of the noise. Of course, that doesn't work. They keep walking towards me and I have to turn to see who it is.

Aaaand, it's Gwen. Out of armor.

Her arms are both completely covered in gauze, with the elbows and hand left bare. She's wearing a padded vest like mine, except a bit thinner. Hair's messier than usual, like she just got out of her tent for the day.

Doesn't say anything when she reaches me, so I look on with a cocked brow. "Didn't I say you'd need to take me out to dinner if you kept eye-balling?"

She huffs, giving the crate I'm sitting on a tap with her foot. "Thought you was worm food."

"You aren't the only person built like a castle." I tell her, looking back to the papers. My hand goes to my tin of coffee, grabbing it and passing the mug over. "Drink that, you look like griffin dung."

"Bit rude tuh say that about a lady's looks." She drones back, my hand feels the cup leave it's grasp.

"Didn't say it about a lady, I said it about you." I say, shuffling a few of the documents back in order. Most of this stuff should be pretty easy to deal with once I find some ink and a quill.

A bit more silence after that. Both of us watching the spars going on in front of us. It's a different feeling from before now. The last time they were using these practice spears, they hadn't been in a life or death situation before. They didn't understand the panic, or the chaos. Hell, I doubt any of them knew the fear of what was going to happen.

Each move these kids make, each step, feels so forced now. Their new knowledge is weighed around their necks like anchors, dragging them down. There's no more laughing or joking around. I don't see people start to daze off and slack. Because now they know what's waiting for them each time we march out of here.

Feels weird, looking at this from the outside now. Not that long ago I was in their shoes.

Gwen hands me the empty mug back, which I put at my side next to the papers. Still nothing new from her, and the way she's acting seems like she's on edge. Just like the last chat we had… in the… woods…

Oh. Oh, that explains a lot. Well this won't do at all.

"Your arms good?" I ask her.

"Bit stiff, but I'll be fightin' next time we go." She says cooly, rubbing her wrists.

That's what I was hoping. I stand up, looking at two people who look like they're about to finish their set. Bring two fingers to my lips and send a sharp whistle in their direction, then give Gwen a nudge to follow me. Which, she does like a puppy.

"Need something Miss Volker?" A darker skinned boy asks me, him and his counterpart lowering their weapons.

"Yeah." I start, looking both him and his lighter toned compatriot over quickly. "You two done with your rounds?"

"Just about, ma'am." He tells me, using his free hand to fix his off-tilt helmet. "Nice to see you not dead, by the way."

"Yeah, feels great." I tell him curtly, then jut a thumb over my finger. "Make way, I we need this spot."

"We do?" Gwen asks, to which I smirk.

"Of course we do, where else are we gonna go a few rounds?" I tell her.

Gwen starts sputtering as I reveal my intentions, while the two boys still in the ring look at each other with wild glee. Both of them run off and start calling out to everyone else on the field, yelling about how the 'Captain and Sergeant Major are about to have the fight of the century.' Makes me roll my eyes, but I still pace into the ring.

"What, you scared?" I say, turning back to face the woman. "I thought you were supposed to be the tough girl."

"That-." She starts, not moving into the ring at all as more people start to drop their weapons and walk back towards us. "I can't fight _you_ , you're my boss!"

"Sorry, don't listen to excuses." I muse back, grinning evilly as she throws her head back and groans. Guess I'm gonna need to goad her in if this is going to happen.

I look around her, bringing both hands up to my mouth and yelling over to the approaching group. " **Hey! Who wants to see me kick Mire's arse in less than a minute?!"**

Gwen's fists clench tight when I say that, right in unison with the loud cheer that erupts behind her as everyone starts to gather around for the show. "Them's bold words comin' from a silver-spoon." She growls at me.

"Hm, but you're still not coming in here." I say, pointing at her feet placed clearly outside of the ring. "See this, everyone? Big scary Mire's too much of a craven to even fight!"

A few people start laughing at my quip, the others watching on in anticipation while Gwen's face twists into the biggest snarl I've ever seen her wear. Meanwhile I'm just enjoying myself at this point, I can't even remember the last time I tore someone a new one.

One more push should be enough to send it home. "Then again, I get why she doesn't. Poor baby probably doesn't want to get herself dirtied up again. Especially if I end up making her eat **dirt!** "

" **That's it!"** She roars, stomping into the ring and cracking her knuckles. " **You twintailed bitch, I'm gonna make ya wish you never got outta that forest!"**

"Ooh, so now the hayseed actually has a spine!" I say, backing up towards my edge of the ring while pointing off to a random onlooker. "You, you're reffing this. Make sure to call the match after I'm done making her cry."

The girl who I randomly picked nods, jumping up and down in expectation before she runs into the center of the ring and starts listing off the rules. Same ones as usual. No hitting someone while they're down, no grabbing, to blows to the head. We're probably gonna break them all in the next five seconds, but I honestly that's the fun part.

The ref takes a few steps back, lifting her hand up and tells us to start once she brings it down. I take my eyes off her and look towards my opponent.

"Any last words, Volkner?" Gwen rumbles out, her feet spreading apart and her body leaning forwards. Both her hands are held a bit out to her side, making it clear she's planning on rushing me down.

"Yeah. My getting caught wasn't your fault." I tell her, squaring myself up into my usual stance. Understanding flashes over her face as she realizes why I did this, before her scowl's replaced with a wicked grin.

"Aw, now I'm actually gonna enjoy this." She says happily, looking over to the ref herself. "What're you waitin' for? Call the start!"

I look at her too, wondering what's the hold up is. Which lets me see the girl is now back up even further, a new expression of fear having replaced her previous expectation. Actually, the entire ring's gone deathly quiet. I trace her eyes, following them to see her vision land directly on…

Caeldori and Percy, marching over at breakneck speed. Percy's almost tripping over his Priest robes as he does his best to keep up with my daughter. Meanwhile Caeldori looks genuinely furious.

The crowd suddenly parts and scatters, everyone doing their best to get away from the blast radius until it's just me and Gwen trading looks of unease.

Oh, this is gonna hurt my ears…

* * *

"Of all the irresponsible, silly, self-harming things you could've done, you chose to _**spar**_ while you're still **concussed?!"** Caeldori keeps chastising, the girl marching behind me as we cut through a few tents. A few heads poked out to watch us as we walked, wondering why there was a girl screaming her head off right outside.

She'd started this back in the training field, first going off on Gwen for agreeing to the fight, then moving onto me for instigating it. For a while she was yelling on and on about how she was going to make everyone in the company 'run for miles because they didn't stop us'. Percy managed to get Gwen out by conveniently saying he had to check her gauze wrap, while I got saddled with… this.

Not gonna lie, not how I expected this reunion to go. Thought there'd be more hugging and smiles.

"Did you even think for one second what could have happened if she complicated your injury!?" I hear her keep rambling about. "What am I saying, of course you didn't. You just charged head-first like always!"

"Worked for me so far." I call over my shoulder as we walk, trying to reach our destination as quickly as possible. Her tent should be here somewhere…

"Oh, it 'works'?" She asks, probably making quotations with her fingers. Can't tell, I'm not looking in her direction. Too focused on navigation. "You were almost killed yesterday because of this foolishness!"

"Operating word there is almost." I point out, which causes her to groan in despair.

"Oh. My. **Gawds.** " She says in a pitch way too familiar to my voice to make me not smile. "I can't believe you! You're _actually_ impossible!"

"Love you too, kiddo." I say, coming to a halt as I finally find where I've been meaning to go. Big tent next to the central command one, both of the flaps still shuttered closed. Doesn't look like anyone's come in or out in a decent while.

"...You're sure she wanted to meet me here?" I ask now that Caeldori's finally calmed down, an indignant frown on her face.

"Yes, Aunt Morgan's inside." She tells me. "She said she had something important to show you once you woke, but you weren't in your tent."

"I was with your Father." I tell her in a low voice, which gets her to relax a bit. Meanwhile I turn around, looking down at her as she continues to pout. "...We'll talk in the mess after this, right?"

She huffs, eyes going up to give me one last glare. "Fine." She agrees, eyes downcast. "...I'm glad you're back safe."

"Was there any doubt?" I joke, going over and crouching a bit so I'm eye-level with her. "I'm always going to come back, no matter what. So stop worrying and go rest, we've got work to do."

She mumbles something I can't understand, but leaves. Grass squashes under her feet as she leaves a path going back the way we came. It's amazing how much she reflects her Grandmother _and_ me at the same time.

Anyway, right. Morgan, time to find out what she wants. As I push the tent open, I'm expecting to see Morgan at her desk preening over something.

What I'm greeted by instead, is a curled fist slamming right into my gut. I instantly double over, coughing my lungs out as I stumble and grab for a pole to stop myself from falling.

Morgan glowers off from the side, pulling her glove back over her hand and marching past me back towards her desk. " _That_ , was for not following orders." She tells me with a hiss, pulling her chair out and sitting back down.

"You… runt…" I answer between harsh breaths. Naga's fangs, that was a hard hit. I think she bruised one of my ribs. "Where do you get off-"

"Quit your whining and get over here." She spits over her shoulder. I glare at her back, noticing her new hairstyle. Instead of chopping off her grown out hair, she's just tied it off at the end. Right now it's resting in the hood of her cloak, like a pile of red straw.

"If you only called me here to chew me out, I'm leaving." I yell back, absorbing the rest of the tent. Messy, clothes and tomes scattered all over the place. Her cot's half-covered in maps, and there's more than a few overflowing bookshelves. Both her spear and a lleven sword are propped up against the side.

I walk over to her side, picking up the sword and holding the jagged weapon in my hands and feeling it's weight. The weapon's light, blade worn out from use. The hilt's been patched together more times than I can count, and by how the leather's peeling it's going to need another fix really soon. I can't feel any magical current in it anymore, whatever was once in the blade's long been depleted.

It feels so familiar, like I've seen it before. But… it can't be. We never found anything of his.

"Is this what I think it is?" I ask in a quiet voice, the patter and scratches of a quill across paper being my only answer.

Dad's sword. The last time I saw this thing, we were on Grima's back over Plegia.

I set the weapon back down, dismissing the idea from my head. No, it can't be. The odds of them being the same weapon were impossible, it probably dissolved just like every other part of him.

"OK, what do you want?" I ask, not bothering to hide the irritation in my voice. Big part of me wants to just smack her in the back of the head. "Did you just call me here to punch me, or-"

She pushes a note across her desk and towards me, not lifting her head as she continues to scribble. My eyes land on what she's working on first, looks to be yet another battle map for whatever's going to happen. Cavalry units wheeling around and pulling off parts of the enemy army, then groups of our guys surround the cut off force and pick them apart. Smart, if it works.

Then my eyes go over to the note, which I pick up and read. The top of the parchment has a Ylissean royal seal stamped onto it.

…

…..

….No. No, no no no.

"This can't be right." I say, putting the note back down and jabbing a finger into it's center to pin it in place. "There's no way in hell this is true."

"They'll be here within the week." Morgan answers curtly, moving her hand to take the note back. "What, you thought you'd be able to avoid Mother forever?"

"Why is she _here_ on _Valm!?"_ I say, interrogating my sister with a harsh whisper. "She's the head of the Royal Guard, since when does she ever leave Ylisstol!?"

"The Queen's with her. They're bringing me reinforcements, and trying to force a peace conference between the Dynasts." She tells me flat-out. "Meanwhile I'm still trying to find out about where these blasted Risen are coming from."

"The Risen aren't anywhere near us." I point out.

"No, they're still spilling over from the Valentian border." Morgan comments. "If I didn't know how much they hated Grima, you'd almost think they were controlling them."

"People can't control Risen." I counter.

"Aunt Aversa could." She points out quickly, which makes me scoff.

"Aunt Aversa is in Plegia trying to scrape the Kingdom back together." I say, leaning up against the desk. "Unless that changed while I was gone?"

Morgan shakes her head. "She's still there. At least, I hope she's still there. I haven't gotten any letters from her in a long time now."

"It's gonna take more than a few bandits and deserters to kill her." I mumble, thinking about everything I just said before speaking again. "I can't be the only person getting serious deja vu here."

"What's that saying Dad always said, 'only the dead have seen the end of War'?" My sister answers sarcastically, bite behind her words.

This is… weird. It feels wrong. She's all tense and upset, more than she's been. Normally even when shoved in a bad situation, Morgan's always cracking jokes and hopping off of the walls. Now she's more cynical than me, and that… that's now how this is supposed to work.

She's not supposed to be grumpy, it's… grumpy and Morgan don't add up together. That's an impossibility. Sure, I've seen her get upset and sad. I've even seen her get angry. But this? This is new. It has to be new.

OK, I need to ignore the throbbing pain in my gut and find out what's bugging her.

I sit up on the desk, pulling the quill clean out of her hands. She tries to snatch it back, but thanks to my seating I'm way taller than she is now. Morgan keeps jumping up to try and grab it, so I just take my other hand and press her head down.

"If you're gonna talk to me, talk to _me_. Not your work." I tell her, going back off the desk and pointing to the tent flap. "Two options. We either talk, or I leave. Because so far all I've gotten from you is a punch to the gut, snark and bad news."

"Don't like a taste of your own medicine?" Morgan sasses me.

"OK, fine. I'm leaving. Have fun on your own." I declare slamming the quill back and storming off to the exit.

Just about to reach it too when I feel her grab my arm. When I turn around, I finally see my sister's face for the first time.

Her eyes are swollen and bloodshot, she looks like she's been crying and she's sleep deprived. Any and all of her flighty happiness is gone, instead she just looks tired and defeated. My bubbly little sister, the light of an entire room. The girl who managed to walk out of the apocalypse with a smile on her face, can't even bring herself to fake it.

The whole world seems to be on her shoulders, and it's breaking her. The stress, the worry, the fear. All of the expectations she has to live up to are about to come crashing down on her at once.

Because she knows she's lost, she _needs_ someone's help to make it out of this. And that failure hurts.

"Don't." She pleads, her tone high and tight. "Don't leave me again."

Those words are like an arrow through my heart.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Not gonna lie. Writing sad Morgan feels like I'm committing a cardinal sin.**_

 _ **I'm going on vacation soon, so there's gonna be another chapter lull. Maybe I'll post something before then, no promises.**_

 _ **Two announcements! One, we've reached almost 31.5K views! That is... more than I ever expected to have all of my stories combined to have, but I'm not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth.**_

 _ **Two, me and some other people have started an Awakening discord. So if you like the game, or if you're a fic writer, or just wanna hang, stop on by. Code is**_ ** _Pgemj2D (Hit the big plus at the bottom of Discord, join server, paste the code in)._**

 _ **That's all folks. See you next chapter.**_

 _ **o/**_


	31. C-25: Birthright

Raising Morgan was one of the hardest things I've ever done.

The two of us were on our own for a long time. Sure we had the house, we had our inheritance. But that wasn't a replacement for our parents. In the small time we had them with us, the impact they left was monumental. But now it was just us, two orphans against the rest of the world. And this was _before_ the Risen became an epidemic.

I was the older sister. I was the heir to everything our family had. That meant I had to be the role model she needed, no matter what.

I didn't expect her to surpass me as quickly as she did.

Tamed her own pegasus at twelve. Grandmaster at fifteen. Could use any kind of magic like it was nothing. Watching her fight with a lance was like watching Inigo's mom dance. Sharp as a tack and kind as a saint. Perfect. Completely perfect.

Morgan's… like a bonfire. Bright and full of energy, she covers everyone around and warms'em up. Doesn't matter if a strong wind, a pail of water or someone just trying to stomp the flames out. It all just keeps burning, in spite of the problems around it.

But the others didn't see how she was behind all the bluster. The flames dim sometimes. Once in a while she'd stumble, and I picked her back up.

This though, this is the worst I've ever seen her. Not when Father or Mother passed. Not when Ylisstol got burned to the ground. Not even after the final battle with the Fell Dragon. Through all of that, she kept smiling.

Even when we lost her, I still had that image in my mind. All of the time I spent alone on Valm. Those nights I'd spent in Holland in Theresa's house. Morgan was the happiest constant I had.

Now we're on her bed. Her head's resting in my lap, and all I can hear around us is the sound of silence. Every few minutes the grass crunches outside from people passing by, the wind pushes the tent flap a bit. But it doesn't register in my mind, everything is focused down on the red and purple lump I'm holding.

I should've seen this coming.

All the time Morgan spent here, alone. Away from her family and friends, getting ready for a fight the world didn't expect her to win. Day after day working herself apart, coming up with plans to try and stem the oncoming tide. The letters she's had to send to Mom, trying to reassure her that everything was alright. I can't even imagine the pressure and stress that must've been pushed onto her. I _saw_ what it did to our Father when we fought Walhart, why would it be different this time?

Then out of nowhere, I reappear. The sister she wrote off as dead for five years is somehow alive, with a new brother in law and niece to boot. Things finally start looking up. Until I almost get killed, and she would've been all alone again.

Just like me in Hobart. Alone and afraid. I've been so focused on the fight that I forgot about the people around me.

Great, I'm a deadbeat mom _and_ a deadbeat sister.

We've been here a little while now. I'm acting as a human pillow while she puts herself back together. I want to say something, apologize. Tell her I'll do better. But with how many times I've made that promise to myself, it'd feel empty making it to someone else. The least I can do is be here for her, try to be an anchor to the world.

Hm… it's funny. Looking at her now, this is the first time I've seen her as a grown up person with grown up problems. It's so easy to forget she's past twenty years old now.

As she shifts in my lap, I move to help her sit up. The cot groans in effort, not really built to handle two women.

"You really need to brush your hair." I point out, getting me a quiet laugh. My hand runs through the long mane carefully, trying to get some of the tangles out as best as I can. It's amazing how unruly this stuff is, all the time she's spent flying made it look like a cat's hairball.

"Want me to cut it for you?" I ask her, pulling my mitt back and resting it in my lap. "I could find some scissors, get it back down to your old style."

She shakes her head, eyes aimed down at the grass as her expression stays still. She looks exactly like she did when we were in the hospice with Gerome and Cynthia. "I like it long. At first it was just because I forgot to cut it, but now… I dunno, just feels right."

"Makes you look like Mom." I tell her, and she finally cracks a smile. She turns her head a bit, looking at me with that spark lit back up behind her eyes.

"So, you hate it then." She calls back to me, snark seeping from every word. Now it's my turn to laugh, jabbing her with my elbow.

"It suits you. All of this does." I tell her. "Remember when you first arrived here? When Mom saw she had a kid who flew, she showed you off to everyone in camp."

"I still didn't even get that she _was_ my Mom." She reminds me. "She was just a stranger to me then. So were you, heck so was Father. All I remembered about him was that he _was_ my Father."

"Feels like a lifetime ago." I recall. When Morgan did reappear, she was the center of attention for the entire camp. All of the Shepherds wanted to find out more about the Grandmaster's wonder child. Gawds, it felt like the future all over again. I would've been livid if I wasn't in shock that Morgan was even still alive.

"Do you honestly remember it that well? How _did_ everyone react when I showed up?"

"It's a long story Morgan."

"We've got time." She affirms, turning around to face me. Both her hands are propping her closer. "Come on! Indulge your amnesiac little sister!"

"You aren't an amnesiac anymore, runt." I grumble. "Besides, I'm more worried about you _now_. Are you sure you're fine? Half of me thought you were gonna turn into a crying puddle."

"What, like you do whenever things don't work out?" She fires back, wounding my ego just a bit.

"I don't _cry."_ I weakly protest, to which Morgan rolls her eyes.

"No, you just scream like you're half my age." She follows up, expression stern as she brushes a wayward lock of hair away from her eyes.

"Since when did you get this snarky?" I ask, a bit annoyed but more amused.

"I've _always_ been this snarky. I'm just more direct with you." Morgan corrects.

"Lucky me." I drone.

Come to think of it, she's right. Snark and sarcasm come to her easy, just by the way I've seen her talk with everyone. Difference between her and me is that she laces it in between backhanded compliments and fancy words, I just flat out tell people what's on my mind.

Actually, I'm pretty sure Morgan managed to talk Inigo into buying her dinner with that trick. Maybe I should give this airhead thing a shot.

She turns back around and hops off the cot, stretching her arms out and groaning before going back to her desk. Her hands wrap around a metal box with a lock on it, along with a key she slips into her coat.

"Can we go talk with Virion?" Morgan asks, putting the box under her armpit. "There's something I found out about these Risen, I wanna tell him before I try to get more information."

"Er…" I stand up as well, rubbing my arm. "I sort of told Caeldori I'd go have dinner with her. You already told me what you wanted to."

"No, I didn't." Morgan corrects, much to me confusion. "I got Mom's letter while you were out of camp, _this_ is what I needed to talk to you about. It's really important."

I exhale, my fingers going to the bridge of my nose. "Morgan, please don't make me choose between you and my kid."

"Look. Thirty minutes at the most, I promise." She pleads, hopping over to me and beaming with wide eyes.

Gods damn it, she's giving me the wounded puppy look. I hate it when she does this.

"Fine. Thirty minutes." I fold, Morgan jumps up and down in victory. She's smiling again, which helps me go along with this. Seriously, seeing her that upset just felt wrong.

"Perfect! Let's go to the command tent!" She says, before sprinting off out of the tent.

"Wh-. Morgan! **Wait for me your dolt!"** I call behind her, trying to catch up with the hyperactive speed demon.

I shouldn't feel this old, I swear.

* * *

The amount of time I've spent in this dumb tent, you'd think I was some kind of General.

Honestly, I'm getting sick of camps. Between this, ruined Ylisse, working with the Shepherds, traveling with Corrin. Feels like I've spent more of my life sleeping in tarps than in a real bed. Soft, fluffy, warm beds. With a blanket, and a real roof. And _bathrooms_. Oh Gods, what I would do for a proper bathroom. Never take indoor plumbing for granted.

The place is mostly emptied out. Only five of us are still inside. Me, Morg, Virion, Cherche and Blanche. Rest of the staff got dismissed, there's a handful of guards posted at the entrances to avoid people finding out what we're on about. Awful lot of secrecy for this meeting. Which again, makes me wonder _why I'm here._

Judging by the look Blanche is giving me, she's thinking the same thing. Huh, suddenly I don't want to leave.

Morgan pokes her head out of the tent one last time, the rest of her body sticking with it's arse end towards us. A few more of the instructions she's giving out reach us, our postures reflecting various levels of impatience. Ranging from Virion nonchalantly sitting in a stupidly expensive chair, to Cherche humming a tune as she moves a few bits and bobs around, to her cousin and I fuming in our spots waiting for her to get on with it.

Finally, _finally,_ she pulls her head back in and hops back over with a cock sure smile. She land on both feet, clapping her hands together scanning the captive audience.

"So!" She opens up. "Thank you all for coming to this urgent exposition of mine."

"We have been waiting here for ages." Blanche hissed, foot tapping along the grassy floor.

"You've got seven minutes left." I inform her, to which she just waves me off.

"Don't be such a sour puss! You'll wanna hear this." Morgan promises, before she leans forward and grabs her box. She digs the key out after, painfully slowly mind you, before she starts to fidget with the lock.

"Come… on… you! Don't start sticking now!" She complains as the moron keeps wrestling with the lock. Cherche paces back over, giving a questioning look to her husband. He just shrugs in response. I swear to Naga, she does this on purpose.

By some act of Providence, the lock clicks open. Morgan cheers, I roll my eyes, and she slips her hands inside. After which she pulls out…

The Risen mask. And a purple tome.

You've got to be kidding me.

"You're wasting my time for show and tell?" I growl, my brand already starting to act up at the presence of the evil thing. From the corner of my eye, I can see our resident Cleric wince as the purple light shines.

"I am sure she has a point, young one." Virion assures, before looking at the so called genius directly. "Er… you _do_ have a point, yes?"

"Yep!" Morgan confirms, flipping the purple tome open and turning the mask over onto it's back. She then points her hand at the top of the mask, a weird bumpy bloch smack in the middle of the forehead. "Everyone can see this, right?"

"It seems like a deformity in the mask." Cherche deducts.

"That entire mask is a deformity." Blanche mutters from the side, leaning forward to get a better look. "Though it's an odd one. In my experience, Risen masks are very smooth in the rear."

"You're right, your Eminence!" Morgan chirps brightly. "Normally, risen masks are completely featureless in the back. They're like, y'know, normal masks."

She takes her other hand and starts running a finger across a few lines of the text. Her eyes follow along as well, as if she's reminding herself of the lines. "I didn't think anything of it at first, but then I started running my tests…"

Morgan's hand stops moving, and her eyes lock back onto the bump. Her mouth moves silently, repeating some incantation. "Blanche, do me a favor. Cast a ward around us with your staff."

Confused, the War Cleric complies, drawing out the long staff and digging it into the ground. Soon after a bright light washes over all of us. Filling the tent and rising to the roof, like illuminating mist. It's like standing in a waterfall, all the vapor rising to the ceiling. Pretty, actually. Bit freaky, but pretty.

"Thanks." Morgan says, aiming her palm right at the deformity. Right before…

" _Flux!"_ She declares, a pulse of purple magic shooting out and rushing into the mask. All of us take a clear step back, except the two acting mages. Virion quite literally dives behind his chair, using the thing as a shield while Cherche visibly tenses.

Suddenly, some kind of… head. A freaking _head_ pops out from the bump. It's small, with two large jaws snapping ferally around. A few legs start wiggling about, clearly trying to dig itself free from it's lodging.

Oh my Gawds, what in Naga's name is it!? As if this could've gotten MORE disgusting!

Blanche gasps, a violent pulse of light magic pushing up to the top of the tent. Virion pokes his head up finally, inching closer again to see what's occurring.

"Is… is that a beetle?!" The Duke asks, stupefied. I can't blame him, my brain isn't registering what my eyes are sending it.

"Well, more of a shrimp." My sister corrects, grinning happily. How is she enjoying this!?

"It's an abomination!" Blanche declares, now holding her staff rather defensively. "For Mila's sake, kill it!"

"Relax." Morgan instructs. "It can't hurt us as long as your ward's up."

Tentatively, Cherche makes her way around the table to stand at Morgan's side. She comes close, hovering her eyes over the monstrosity as it hungrily snaps at her nose.

"Dear, I would not recommend that!" Virion calls. His feet, however, remain planted right where he is.

The Wyvern Lord's eyes were wide. Not with fear, but now fascination. "A creature housed within the skin of the facewear." Cherche observes, glancing to Morgan. "Do all of the masks possess this trait?"

"Far as I know? All the ones we've found recently do." Morgan points out, pulling her hand back and letting the glow dim down. "When we passed through Geneve, I did some digging around myself. All the masks that I found had this bump, so…"

"But the masks haven't had these before." I finally say, shaking the fear out of my bones. "Before they were just _masks_. They felt like leather, but there wasn't anything _in_ them. And Grima didn't seem like a bug-head."

As the dark magic's channeling dies off, the beetle-shrimp starts to sink back into the inside. With one last petulant flail, the head slips back inside like a sword in a sheath. The bump goes back to how it was before, smooth and still.

"This happens whenever you channel dark magic into it?" Cherche continues to question, Morgan nodding along to confirm. "That's… rather odd. Risen are usually seeped in fell magic, not your run of the mill dark magic. Especially a simple flux spell."

"Well, according to Tharja, fell essence _is_ elder. Just more concentrated." Morgan explains. "But you're right, there's a difference."

"...Your sister was right." Blanche realizes, flicking her view to me. "These things aren't Grimleal. They're something else."

"Bingo." Morgan hums. "My thesis is that these things haven't been created by Grima at all. They seem manufactured."

"Man made." Virion clarifies in disbelief, clutching his backrest as he stands. "Someone is _building_ these things so they may attack us."

"I wouldn't say to attack us." My sister adjusts. "These Risen are uncoordinated, and they travel in small packs. If someone was trying to use them as a fighting force, you'd think they'd consolidate and attack en masse.

"Just like Faceless." I recall, earning the confused ire of Morgan and Virion. "They're creatures I fought in Nohr. Dark mages made them out of death row convicts. Big, hulking apes with arms the size of tree trunks. Almost as big as an entombed."

"I still cannot believe Nohr is real…" Virion exclaims softly, before shaking the thought from his head. "Do you know the process they used in the Dusk Kingdom to create such behemoths?"

I shake my head. "Never went near the place where they made'em. I always thought doing that to people was messed up, even if they were crooks.'

"Could they be controlled?" Cherche followed up.

"Easily." I tell her. "Strong enough dark mage could control a whole army of them. One of the Princes, Owain worked for him. The guy kept a few as his attack dogs during battles."

A shudder flows through the room, everyone's faces creasing in worry. I can't blame them, the idea of people creating and controlling risen and using them as weapons sounds insane. It shouldn't even be possible, and yet, here we are.

I need to calm them down. This is a panic waiting to happen.

"Guys. I was in an _Outworld._ " I start. "Their magic plays by different rules than ours. They were launching animal spirits and had big one eyed dragons for Gods. For all we know these things're just… I dunno, freaks of nature? Grima could've messed up the ecosystem or something"

"I have never been one to believe in coincidence." Blanche disagrees, cutting off the flow of her magic. The artificial lighting dims away, dispersing out into the air around us. "The moment you return, these new Risen suddenly come to be. It feels like an omen."

"Are you accusing me of something, Miss Priss?" I ask, shooting her a glare.

"I haven't the slightest idea what you mean, Miss Volkner." Blanche adds sweetly, slinging her staff across her back once more. "But the timelines are far too close at this point. There must be a connection."

"Uh huh." I say, not believing a word. "You got proof?"

"Nothing but my intuition." Blanche admits, before gesturing back to the mask. "Regardless, we have a new threat now. One I would argue is larger than the Valentian onslaught."

"These Risen might be part of their forces." Morgan ponders.

"Out of the question." Cherche dismisses immediately, hands now resting at the edge of the table. "No Valmese man or woman would stoop low enough to employ a risen. After Grima, such things are more despised than the darkest taboos."

Morgan opens her mouth to speak, but Virion cuts in. "I agree with my wife. Valm is a very traditional continent, the idea that someone would perform this kind of heresy is unthinkable. Especially those we are currently fighting."

"Walhart didn't care much about faith." I point out, to which the Duke simply shakes his head.

"Albien is not his Uncle." He says, which knocks me for six. This new guy is Walhart's relative? Seriously? Does his entire family just have a never ending empire complex!?

"He's restored the faith in Valentia and it's vassals." Virion continues to inform. "His followers are beyond devout, I would even go so far as to call them fanatical. Each of them would gladly throw themselves at Naga's feet before even pondering these dreadful acts."

I want to say that this wannabe Emperor could just be faking it, but it doesn't seem like something I want to argue. Virion knows more about his home, I should trust his word. But it doesn't change the fact that there are still Risen shambling about.

"...There is another possibility." Cherche ponders, tapping her chin in thought. "Perhaps another party, not Valentian or Grimleal. Another Dynast, or a group we are fully unaware of."

Morgan grunts, starting to pack everything back up into the box. As the lock closes again, my brand's glow dies off. The lock shimmers a bright gold before going dull again, some sort of seal wrapping around it. Guess that explains why it didn't trigger our birthmarks earlier.

"Regardless." Blanche calls out. "We may discuss possibilities until we are old and grey, but without evidence it is merely postulation."

"I'll keep digging." Morgan assures. "If I can get the shrimp out, I'd be able to analyse it properly."

"And then what, it digs into your ear and takes over your brain?" I throw out, earning an exaggerated gag.

"I concur with the Captain." Blanche says. "From this moment on, I request that I accompany you whenever these tests take place."

Morgan's eyes roll, but one look from Virion and I make her relent. "Fine, fine. You can tag along, just remember who's running the experiment."

Blanche forces a smile, not enjoying being shoved down a few pegs, but still manages a grateful curtsy. Meanwhile I flash Morg a thumbs up while her Holiness isn't looking. Her head bobs as she giggles.

"That's one matter settled." Virion says, sitting himself back down in his Dukely chair. Seriously, how did he get that here? Was there even room in the wagon train for this thing? We were supposed to only bring necessities! And why do I even care so much!?

Oh Gods. I'm fretting over cargo trains and storage efficiency. I'm turning into **Mother.** By Naga, no.

"Severa." Virion calls, waving me over. I walk over to the man, hands at my side. "Your sister told me about what you did in the forest."

My cheeks turn red at the mention of my escapade, both of my eyes looking anywhere but at the man. Great, now I'm gonna get grilled by Sir Ruffles.

"What you did was extremely foolish, child." He berates. "Not even factoring that you strayed from the plan, you put yourself and many of _my_ subjects at risk. Imagine what would have happened if we had not found you? You could have easily perished in that forest from what Blanche told me."

His concern for my well being is actually making this worse. A tongue lashing, I can shrug off. People actually giving a damn about my stupid arse, that always threw me for a loop. I've always fought a bit reckless, and most people were used to that. But the older Shepherds never were. Whenever any of us ended up going on their own, we'd get dragged into a room by the ear and torn a new one by our parents.

Virion… isn't my father. But next to Chrom, he's the closest thing to a Dad I have left. So that's double the guilt at half the price. Anna'd love this bargain.

"I'm sorry." I say honestly, head bowed in penance. "I know what I did was wrong, I was just… trying to take advantage of the situation. We were supposed to cause chaos, I thought we could get away with a bit more before we fell back."

Virion chuckles in amusement, nudging my hip with his elbow. "Chin up, young one. This is not a shaming. You are a smart woman, you know what was your error." The blue haired man consoles, smiling at me warmly. He doesn't seem mad at all, which I guess should make me feel better. It doesn't, but it's a nice attempt.

" _Ignoring_ your dereliction from the plan." Cherche picks up, placing a hand on my shoulder. "You've performed extremely well in your duty. Both you and your husband have done an amazing job training our men. Plus, your heroics in the forest have started to spread through the camp."

"Heroics…?" I ask, confused.

"One of your men came and told us what happened." Cherche informs. "You stayed behind to buy them time. An officer, willingly putting her life on the line for those she doesn't know."

"It was my fault they were even in that situation, they should be furious."

"Buuut, they aren't." Morgan interjects. "You should've seen'em! Whole platoon of people rushed back over the river to try and grab you back! It was so cool, like something out of an old war novel! Or when Kellam picked up and carried Sully after those Plegians shot her off her horse!"

I fold my arms close to my heart and shrug, hiding away my bashful emotion. It's nice being the center of attention for once, not being shunted off to the sidelines. But I still wish I did better. Ten people died under my watch, that's ten too many.

"As such, we've been meaning to discuss another matter with you." Virion explains, eying Morgan expectantly.

My sister shirks under his gaze, nervously rubbing her arm. "Uh… shouldn't they be here before we make it official?"

'They' should be here? Wha-

My train of thought's knocked loose as someone suddenly bursts out from a blade closet behind me. At an instinct, my body jumps in front of Virion and Cherche. I turn around and whip out my rapier. My arm goes high, ready to cut whatever is trying to force it's way into the tent.

...When I'm greeted by a smiling, dimpled young woman in silver pegasus knight armor. Her blue hair's done up in short pigtails, arms wide for a hug as her eyes are closed. Until they open, and see me with a weapon hovering above her head ready to turn her into a glorified shishkebab.

That's when she loses her footing and trips right into me. Meanwhile my sword grip slips, the rapier falling backwards out of my hand. I can hear a 'SHUNK' as it digs tip-first into the dirt. The hug turns into a tackle, but I dig my feet in and avoid going to the dirt.

"What... the... hell…?" I ask, arm going to hang limp. Taking advantage of my lost of composure, the armored knight hops forward and wraps me up in a hug that's WAY too tight for comfort.

"SEV!" Cynthia cries out, quite literally squeezing the air out of my lungs with the force of a grizzly bear. I can feel my ribs cracking in the vice, too strong for me to breathe. Too strong for me to even think.

"Cynthia. Armor." Cherche chimes up casually at my flank, as if I'm not being murdered before her eyes. For the love of Anri, someone get her off me!

"Huh?" The airhead asks, before noticing that I'm probably blue in the face. "Oh!" She cries out, hopping back in place. I stumble back as I regain my freedom, falling against the planning table and inhaling the largest breath I've ever taken in my life. Meanwhile I can hear Morgan and Virion laughing their kiesters off.

From the corner of my eye, I see Gerome also slip out from the shadows. The periwinkle haired wyvern knight just offers me a nod in acknowledgement, not trying to puree me like his Gods forsaken wife. Not that Cynthia even seems to care she just committed aggravated assault. She's still smiling like a dope and jumping up and down in her spot.

"You're back!" She cheers. "You're back, you're back, you're back! Oh I missed you so much! Does Aunt Cordelia know? Ooh, ooh. Does my Mom know!? When did you get back here! Where were you!?"

"My ears are bleeding…" I groan, rubbing the side of my skull as I feel a fresh headache coming on. Not the psycho kind, just a normal 'oh Gods why me' kind of headache. The kind that Cynthia specializes in handing me on the regular.

"How long have you two been in there?" Morgan asks, recovering from her laughing fit. At least one of us is enjoying this.

"An hour." Gerome rumbles. "Cynthia wanted to make a 'heroic entrance'. My Mother and Father indulged her."

"Hey, that's not fair!" Cynthia calls back. "You hid too, don't act like this was all me!"

"Because I knew I would not hear the end of it elsewise." He laments, which gets the former Princess to pout indignantly. I sigh in relief, glad that even after all these years Gerome can still keep the flighty flier somewhat grounded.

"Now that they've revealed themselves, Morgan. Can we speak with Severa about the reorganization?" Virion asks, to which I can hear Morgan trot up and stand in front of me. All four of the Shepherds, new and old, are now in my vision. I turn my head to see Blanche is notably quiet, watching from the edge of the table.

"Right." Morgan agrees, spinning around to look at me. "You read the new order of battle I left on your desk?" She asks.

"Yeah. Something about me getting put into a new chain of command." I recall. "We're getting put into a battalion, right?"

"Not just a Battalion." Blanche speaks, drawing my view as she sits with her hands held in front of her. "A composite unit made up of both the Halidom's forces and the Duchy's Militia. Two companies from both of our forces, roughly four hundred troops."

"We're getting ready for the main fight with the Valentians." Morgan explains. "We're trying to draw them over to that down river, bog them down. That means no more skirmishing, pitched battles."

"Grand strategy." I note, shrugging. "Alright, so where does this fit me?"

"Well, for starters. Your husband's cavalry company is also being folded in. Along with another company of Archers." She tells me, my expression brightening up as I realize I'll be spending even more time with Subaki. Heck, we might even be able to pull for a shared sleeping tent now. That'd be amazing.

"Gerome's going to be leading the other infantry group." She continues, a grunt shaking from the masked rider. "Cynthia's going to be handling the archers."

"You're giving the airhead a command?" I ask, not following her logic.

Cynthia's frown grows, but Morgan keeps pressing before she can retort. "In case you forgot, Sev. Cynthia's _our_ Princess, abdicated or not. And she was the second best bow-shot in the Shepherds."

I groan, but don't press the issue. Fine, Cynthia's in charge of some missile troops. Not like she'll be able to get into much trouble with them, archers usually stay in the back. Just means Gerome and I need to keep her from screwing up. Some things never change.

"Still haven't told me who my new boss is." I tell Morgan, wanting to get this over with. By now Caeldori's wondering why I haven't come. Whatever food she saved for me is beyond cold at this point.

"You don't have one." Morgan tells me.

"What?" I ask. "How don't I have one, the paper said we were getting a Major."

"You are, but you don't have a new boss."

I think about the phrase, before it hits me like a log. I lift a finger up, pointing it towards me. My mouth slowly goes agape.

"You're the most qualified." Morgan explains. "Lot of combat experience, you said you were a royal retainer in Nohr. Most of the troops know you from the training drills. Plus, well, you're _Dad's daughter._ He put us through a lot of War studies when we were younger."

I'm still balking at my sister, before I look to Virion to see if he's alright with this. The old archer smiles and bobs his head, showing his approval. When I look to Cherche she acts similarly, giving my shoulder a supportive squeeze.

Then I scan my two friends, wondering what's their take on all this. Cynthia, turns around and huffs, but that's probably because I bullied her into another corner again. Gerome's expression is, figures, hidden behind that stupid mask of his. Honestly I should rip it off his face.

"Only thing we need to do is find a replacement for your old command." Morgan explains. "Do you want Caeldori to do it?"

"No." I quickly say. "I uh… I want Caeldori to stick with me. I still need a second, and she'll be a good messenger with her pegasus."

"Wait, your daughter's a pegasus knight?!" Cynthia suddenly asks, spinning around and beaming all over again. She's already forgotten that she was upset with me, the total dunce.

Great, now she's gonna hound Caeldori about being a pegasus knight. I've summoned a curse upon my daughter.

Morgan cocks a brow. "Then who's going to take over for you? We're going to need to bring in a new officer if you don't pick her."

"Gwen." I blurt, no thought needed. Virion's eyes focus down on me confused at the name. "M-my Sergeant Major. She's a good leader, the troops know her. She's the best pick."

"Sergeant Major." Blanche repeats from afar, tone dripping with annoyance. The table groans as she pushes herself upright, fingers digging into the vineer. "A commoner. You want to make a commoner a Captain!? Are you insane!?"

Virion lifts a hand, silencing his rowdy Brigadier. He keeps his gaze contemplative, fixed on me as he takes in this new information. Valmese culture is strict when it comes to social class, I know this is a big request. Might even anger some of his other more gentle officers.

"Severa." He speaks. "...You're certain she's worthy?"

I nod again, not missing a beat. "She won't let you down. She sure as hell hasn't done so for me."

His gaze adjusts to Cherche, her lips pursed. But softly, the Duchess' seems to nod in accordance. To which Virion turns over to face Blanche once more.

"Promote her." He commands, much to Blanche's visible dismay. "This woman's proven skilled, and she's already shed blood for Roseanne. That makes her as worthy as any noble."

Obstinate, Blanche doesn't budge. Her teeth grit together. "With all due respect, your Highness. I realize that you spent an extended amount of time with the Archeneans, but t **his is not Ylisse**. Raising an Officer from the ranks is unheard of here. The lower nobles would _revolt._ "

"Tell me Blanche." Virion follows up, firm. "As a woman of the cloth, are you willing to allow someone misfortune due to the station of their birth."

The Brigadier huffs. "I am not speaking as a Cleric, Virion. I'm speaking as your advisor and the Brigadier of Roseanne. There will be collateral damage!"

"Then make it a temporary commission." Virion offers. "It shall be revoked once this war has ended, then we can see about putting Miss…" He looks to me. "Her family name?"

"Mire." I tell him.

"Mire, we can see about her becoming a squire to a castle knight." He finishes, leveling a loaded gaze at his cousin in law. Daring her to fight this any further.

Cowed, Blanche exhales and shakes her head. All energy she has left deflates, pooling out into the afternoon air. "...I shall interview her tomorrow. See if she is ready for the post." She informs, before shooting me a venomous glare.

"Let's hope our new Major isn't a poor judge of character."

* * *

 _ **A/N: I'm not dead! Back from vacation and overcoming another bit bout of writers block, but I'm alive! So a quick update; next chapter is gonna be another paralogue. Before that I'm planning to put up a one shot called 'Dragon's Table', you'll know it when you see it. After that, I'm gonna update my other fic. Then I'll roll back around to here, in a timely manner hopefully.**_

 _ **With that bit out of the way, review responses:**_

 _ **Marengo: If people are crackshipping my OCs, then I know I'm doing something right :P**_

 _ **Crusader Jerome: Yep. If Morgan and Cynthia had been there, they would've certainly bombared them with confetti bombs. Where would they find them? Through the power of pranks, duh.**_

 _ **Jankge: YOU'LL NEVER TAKE ME ALIVE! I'VE DONE MY TIME, I SERVED MY NICKEL!**_

 _ **Seriously though, thanks for the compliment**_

 _ **A: Thanks. I know I keep saying this every time, but really. Knowing I'm giving you guys a good story is what helps me keep pumping these chapters out.**_

 _ **I'm glad you mentioned the Babyrealms, because in Fates they really do feel glossed over. Some of the kids show resentment over being thrown in there, but none of the parents really show much conflict. Which I found... weird, because it's pretty clear all the parents love their kids in that game. Having to leave your child behind isn't an easy thing to do, but portraying that emotion well isn't easy either. So I'm happy to have nailed that.**_

 _ **And yes, Cordelia's arrival is soon. And it shall be glorious**_

 _ **But that's all for now, folks. Thanks again for reading! Until next time**_

 _ **o/**_


	32. P-4: Church and State

Gwendolyn Mire rose like a risen from her cot, in similar motion and appearance.

The young soldier looked like she'd just involved herself in a wrestling match. Her green hair tossed and sticking about, helter skelter. The bandaging that covered her arms was now loose and slipping, making her seem almost mummified. A few new fabric burns were present as well, trailing across her back.

She wondered how she'd gained these new marks, and why she still felt so tired, when Gwen felt a form rolling next to her. Only to see that she wasn't the only person resting here, a scruffy looking man rousing himself awake as well.

Well, that explained quite a bit.

Also explained why she was in the nude.

Images of the night prior flooded back to her as she stood. Mire walked out to the center of the tent, yawning grandly as she stretched her arms out. A sense of soreness resonated to her core, but other than that it felt like any other morning.

She carefully took in the sight of her tent. The benefits of being a senior sergeant, she was given space to herself. Not the size of an officer's quarters, but still something.

Most of the space was empty, due to her not having much to her name. A few dull spearheads on her desk, along with the paperwork she needed to deliver later this morning. Her armor and shield resting next to the exit. And a crate of assorted rations she'd 'persuaded' one of the cooks to give her.

A cool breeze blew in, sending a chill up her spine and spurning her to cover her chest. Good as sign as any to get dressed.

It didn't take long for that to happen. Undergarments, shirt, trousers, padded vest, armor and helmet. Far easier to put on than some frilly lady's dress that all the city slickers loved to wear. She never understood the appeal behind a skirt, corset and heels. Things looked more like torture devices than clothing.

Mounting her shield on her hip, she slipped a hand into the crate and withdrew a red apple. One quick sniff certified that it was still edible, to which she ripped a chunk out and swallowed.

Her nighttime companion, finally was now back in the land of the conscious. He sat on the edge of the cot, blanket draped over his waist and sadly depriving her of a show. Disappointed, she began to pick the man's uniform off from the floor and tossed it back onto her bed.

"And people say I'm shitty in the mornin'." Gwen commented smugly, taking in what sights she could.

He was a cavalry officer, one of the foreigners from Ylisse. The two of them had ran into each other during a check-up with the priests, as the stained bandages around his leg alluded to. Said his name was Rudolf, though he insisted that she called him Rudy.

Gwen hadn't been in a talkative mood. After the ear-shattering lecture she'd garnered from her Lieutenant over her interrupted spar, her penchant had been soured. Before that she had already been weighed down by guilt over the events in the forest.

But, he'd been happy to chat. Too happy, most of the time he seemed to be speaking for the both of them. And his eagerness… rubbed off on her. So she humored him. Then after their medical check, they'd gone to the mess. Then to walk. Then… well, then this.

Not that Gwen minded. The man certainly had been a lovely distraction.

Rudy smiled at her. He always seemed to be smiling at someone or something, like he didn't know what the word sad even meant. "What can I say, eh? I'm tired. Had a long night."

"Oh, yeah. I know, hotshot." Gwen said through a snicker. "Just glad you managed tuh keep up. Most folks don't last past round three."

"Let's just hope no one heard us." Rudolf noted, grabbing hold of his briefs and pulling them back on. "If my Captain catches wind of this, I'm dead."

Gwen started to laugh again, when she realized what the man just said. If _her_ Captain found out about this, she'd be worse than dead.

She gulped audibly, turning around to dash at her tent flap and sticking her head outside to see if they'd attracted an audience.

The outside was blessedly barren, the sun barely rising over the horizon. A morning chill still covered the entire encampment, grass still wet with dew and not yet trodden upon.

Sighing in relief, she spun back around and wandered back inside. For the most part, Rudolf had gussied himself back up. A blue chemise and rider's pants hung over his form, though the top remained unbuttoned. The brown haired man seemed to be struggling with that particular task.

Smirking, the spearwoman made her way back over and took control of the situation. Her hands traveling up the man's torso as she slipped each silver coupling into place.

"You really that outta it, scruffy?" She asked, finishing at the man's collar. "Stuff like this should come easy to some fancy pants Looie from the Halidom."

He chuckled, adjusting his collar into a more aligned state. Gwen shrugged, turning about and going over to her desk. Thank the Gods she finished all of this junk the morning prior.

Rudy then paced up behind her, hands held at his sides as the cavalier hovered. "So uh… Gwen, I wanted to ask."

"Hm?" She followed, giving all of the papers one last look. Her handwriting still looked like a crime scene, but at least it was legible. Sort of.

"Well, uh." Rudy started, rubbing the back of his neck. "I really had a lot of fun."

"Oh, I could tell." Gwen mused.

"No, I mean before the whole…" The poor boy made a circle motion with his index fingers, twirling them around each other. "Before that. It was nice talking with you and all."

"You was doin' most of the talkin'." She pointed out, gathering all of the parchment back together. "But I'm glad you liked it."

"Oh, for sure!" He exclaimed, a bit louder than either of them would've liked. "I uh… I liked it so much that… well…"

Gwen turned back around, brow cocked as she held the stack to her chest with an arm.

"I was wondering if we could… do it again sometime." Rudolf finally requested, turning sheepish at the last moment. Gwen looked on, still ever amused at her bedmate's embarrassment. "Say, whenever we get leave. Maybe go somewhere with less spears and more… quaint?"

Comprehension came to Gwendolyn once more, the poor boy's naivete being nearly comical for her.

"Rudy." Mire started, smirking smugly at how enamored her conquest was. "You're a funny guy, a real sweetheart, cute, and _amazin'_ in the sack." She explained, lifting a finger and setting it right on the man's chest. "But that's all you are to me, sweet pea."

That declaration broke apart the horseman's smile, the expression shattering into a million pieces as his head bowed down in defeat. Pleased with herself, Gwen traipsed back to the tent's exit, about to slip out of her quarters.

Before she looked back over her shoulder, her heart taking an odd smack as she saw how downtrodden the foreigner looked.

"Ask again after we win this." She said, offering him one last lifeline. "And feel free tuh eat somethin', got a crate of crap next tuh the desk."

The soldier left with that, not checking to see the cavalier's final emote.

* * *

As the papers landed onto her desk, Severa's head jutted up from the new sound. The Ylisseans eyes focused on Gwendolyn, expression changing to a grimace as she pulled the stack over.

"I'll be honest, I was hoping you forgot." The officer admitted, taking the first piece of parchment and looking it over with glazed eyes.

Gwen just shrugged, hands upturned as she kept her signature smirk. "You were th'one who wanted'em. When I got signed on _you_ was the one who told me if I didn't do my papers, I'd get-"

"-I remember exactly what I said." Severa huffed, flipping to the next page in the pile. "At least it's just proofreading. Thanks for getting this dealt with."

"Aw shucks, Cap. You're makin' me blush." Gwen answered sardonically, her right hand resting on her hip.

Her superior sighed, fatigue audibly and physically noticeable. As usual, there was a tin of coffee steaming from the desk. Volkner tended to eat her meals while working. What wasn't usual was the woman's lack of dress, the only shirt she wore being a thin white button up.

The Captain's twintails were also absent, scarlet hair cascading down her back and shoulders. It was the first time Gwen saw her without them, and it only now registered just how much Volkner had. It easily went down past her arms, tripping at the waist.

It was out of character, seeing such a vain woman not giving a hoot about her look.

"You alright, Miss Sev?" Gwen asked, growing more uncomfortable and the unsettled woman.

"Do I look alright?" Severa asked back, eyes not moving from her reading material.

"Well ya _look_ like griffon dung." The soldier parried, growing even more smug as she saw irritation flare behind Severa's irises. A little payback for the dig yesterday.

The officer huffed, turning to another page as she tried to focus on her work. "I had a long night, barely got any sleep."

"Ooooo." Gwen crooned, leaning forwards so her head hovered close. Trying to goad the Ylissean into looking at her. "Ya spend a fun night with Mister Takeda? Got that messy look about ya."

Severa's cheeks, ears and nose began to burn read at the indecent suggestion. Her grip on the forms becoming even tighter as her fists clenched together.

Snickering, Gwen shot back up. "Hey, hey. I won't say anythin'!" She promised. "Just didn't think a stickler for the rules would do somethin' like that!"

" **We didn't do anything like that!"** Severa very loudly denied, tearing her vision back towards her so called friend. Mire took a step back as the lion roared at her, hoping not to be blown out of the tent.

The Captain exhaled, standing and planting both hands onto the desk. "I had a late meeting with the Duke. A lot of news got dropped on my head at once, plus a _lot_ of preparation. So I pulled _another_ all nighter. Which is why I slept here, in **this chair.** "

"Y'know this sounds a lot like th'second time we met each other." Gwen recollected, before visibly recoiling at the smoldering rage directed towards her from the foreigner. "Sorry! Sorry I said anythin'!" She backpedaled, physically and literally as she once again feared for her life.

Appeased, Severa sat back down and leaned into the chair. She took a long, deep drink of coffee, almost emptying the mug in one go before sitting it back down.

"Gods' sake, do you really think I spent the whole night getting busy with my husband?" Volkner asked, visibly insulted by the accusation. "What kind of idiot does that in a tent city surrounded by other people?"

Gwendolyn fell deathly silent with that statement, eyes blinking as she tried to think of a proper response. On one hand, being called an idiot was a blow to her ego. On the other hand, admitting she'd partaken in said activity wasn't exactly wise.

Unfortunately for her, Severa was receptive to her silence. "You went reaaaaaal quiet there, Gwen."

"Quiet?" Gwen squeaked, voice high and small. "I'm not quiet. _You're_ quiet!" She stammered out, both hands then zooming up to cover her mouth before she said something even more stupid.

Severa watched on for a few more moments, before rolling her eyes and shaking her head.

"I don't even wanna know." The swordswoman declared, shuffling a few items on her desk as a clear escape from the conversation. "Just don't let me hear about it, you know camp rules."

Sighing in relief, Gwen dropped her hands and came forward to the desk again. "Well, other than that…" She deflected, glad to not be on the business end of a lashing for the second time in her life. "You got somethin' that needs doin'? I ain't got much tuh do today other then drillin' the troops."

The Ylissean woman halted her motions, contemplating something before she looked back over to the hayseed.

"...Yeah. Two things." Severa clarified. "First, I need you to find Percy and tell him to come here. Need to talk to him about a few things."

"Easy enough, egghead's usually in the common room with the Looie." Gwen inferred.

"Why's _Caeldori_ with him?" Severa questioned, before rolling her eyes. "Whatever. Second thing, go talk with the Brigadier. She needs to tell you something."

Gwen went quiet again at the mention of her Commander. The girl's jovial nature shimmered and fell, being replaced with… anxiety? Fear? Surprise? She wasn't sure, it was a lot of emotions at once. Most of them negative.

Severa, like last time, took notice. "You alright?" The officer asked, concern heavy in her tone.

"Huh?" Gwen asked, as if pulled out of a stupor. "Uh, yeah. Just a bit shocked…"

"Not every day you get to meet up with a General, I get the nerves." Volkner followed up. "Ever talk with Blanche before?"

"No." Gwen lied cleanly, easily as breathing. "Only time I've seen'er was parade formations. B'fore the war I didn't even know who she was."

"That's a blessing, believe me." Severa tacked on, huffing at the thought. "Woman's so prissy you'd think she was royalty."

Gwen smiled and nodded, playing along with her leader's biases. "Sure she is." The soldier agreed. "But uh… why does she wanna talk tuh me?"

"Assessment for something." Severa answered cryptically, smiling behind her hands as she rested both elbows on her desk. "Your name came up in something recent. You'll… find out the rest later."

"Oh." Was the only thing Gwen said, eyes downcast as her heart dropped through the floor. The farmgirl's mind instantly went to the worst case scenario.

She was being demoted. Not like she could argue against it after what happened. What she almost did in the forest, plus everything that happened afterwards…

The world warped fas Mire's mind went back to the woods. After the battle, marching back, confronting Volkner when they were alone.

Almost drawing her weapon. Almost _skewering_ the woman. Then right after, the person she was about to kill went off and saved her life and everyone else's.

Of course she wanted her gone. She deserved it.

"...I'm sorry." Gwen muttered.

"Whuzzat?" Severa asked. "Speak up."

"I'm sorry." Gwen repeated. "...Look, Cap. Can you just lemmie say somethin' before I go find four-eyes?"

"I think you're gonna do it anyway." Severa droned, but waved her hand. "Go ahead, not like we're on a timetable or anything."

"Can you not?" Gwen asked. "Tryin' tuh be serious."

Her friend frowned, but shrugged, leaning back and letting Gwen take the lead. The Valmese woman took in a breath, letting her mind settle so the right words lined themselves up in her mind.

"I… messed up, durin' the retreat." Gwen explained, as calmly and clearly as she could despite her rattled nerves. "We were tryin' tuh run, get e'ryone outta danger. Then I went off the handle, almost drew a weapon on ya and…"

Another breath. "It's my fault you almost got killed. Hell, it's my fault for even thinkin' about hurtin' ya. And I'm sorry fer that. I really, really am."

Severa watched on, unimpressed. Both of her feet now resting casually on the table as the country girl laid her feelings bare in front of her. Distractedly, the officer checked her nails, not looking in Gwen's direction as she gave her heartfelt admittance.

"...Guess that's that then." Mire spoke softly, taking the disinterest as a sign of defeat. "I'll… I'll go find Percy and tell'im tuh talk with ya."

"Gwen." Severa said, stopping the younger girl in mid-turn.

Her eyes lifted from her nails, and she stood up once again to pace up to her Sergeant's front. It was the first time both of them stood so close like this, Severa clearly half a head shorter than the native. Yet right now, the native felt like the smallest thing in the world.

"Get it out of your head." Severa ordered crossing her arms over her chest. "I don't know why the hell you're apologizing after I told you it wasn't your fault."

"But-"

"But. Nothing." Severa interjected, huffing to punctuate. "You saw my birthmark and freaked out. It was a natural response."

"Tryin' tuh stab ya was a natural response?" Gwen asked, utterly confused.

"I mean, I would've done it." Severa clarified, thinking for a second before shrugging. "Well, no, I wouldn't have hesitated. But you get the idea."

Still not comprehending the woman's flippant attitude to the confrontation, Gwendolyn remained silent. She expected yelling, or shame, or some kind of score. But this was… this was weird. Who was this woman? How did she brush off a near death experience this easily?

"Look. I get it." Severa continued. "I grew up terrified of the Grimleal because of what they did to me and my family. I hated them for a long time, I still do. They're probably the easiest thing for me to fight outside of Risen."

"But you ain't Grimleal." Gwen amended quietly. "You're Ylissean."

"I'm _half_ Ylissean." Severa pointed out. "And unlike my sister, physically I take a lot more after my Dad than my Mom. Most people don't even need to see the brand to distrust me."

The young soldier rubbed her arm sheepishly. "So I ain't the first person tuh…?"

"And you won't be the last. It's something I'm used to." Severa comforted.

It was strange how that statement gave her relief, but somehow she relaxed. Though another question did quickly take the last one's place in her mind.

"Cap." Gwen continued. "I gotta ask. Why do you trust me this much? First time we met I was draggin' your carcass to jail."

Severa didn't answer. Her face scrunched up, chin resting on her hands as she was clearly trying to figure as to why.

"...I think it's because you remind me a lot of me when I was your age. Before I grew up and got my head screwed on right." She answered.

"You ain't that much older than me." Gwen pointed out

"I'm in my mid-twenties. You're what, eighteen?" Severa countered dryly.

"Nineteen in a few weeks."

"Doesn't count until you hit the date." Severa dismissed, the younger woman pouting at the put-down.

Still, she continued. "But when I was your age, I was loud and brash. Walked around like I owned the place and everyone in it. Things… changed. I mellowed out. Married life does that."

"Wait, this is you _mellow_?" Gwen asked, not buying the idea. Or well, being gobsmacked at what a more intense Severa would be like. "How bad did ya get when you was younger?"

"You don't wanna know. People couldn't stand me, I can't blame them." Severa rattled off. "But, that's not the point. My point is you're still learning, and you're gonna screw up. You're never gonna stop screwing up either."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence." Gwen added depressingly.

"It's a fact of life. No one's perfect, only person I know who came close is long gone."

"Who was that?"

"...No one important." Severa deflected. "Now, we good?"

Mire pouted again, but shrugged, content with the explanations she was given. "Yeah, we're good. I just needed tuh get that offa my chest."

"Great. Now, go tell Percy, and go to that meeting." Severa ordered, shooing the woman away and once again returning to her clerical duties.

Gwendolyn stepped out after that, content.

* * *

Both Percy and Caeldori were exactly where she expected.

This tent was officially just a storage shed. Old crates filled with dusted supplies and rationed goods. Until a few weeks after, a few soldiers had began to gravitate there during their time away from drills and patrols. Then even more people started to gather there. Some of them even bringing items along to pass the time. Books, board games, small instruments.

Next thing you know, everyone in the Army decides that this is the new hangout joint.

Gwen did miss when the joint was less crowded. She also wasn't sure why leadership was fine with them even occupying the place. Maybe they figured it wasn't worth the trouble tearing down. Then again, she saw plenty of officers putz about here as well in their own little corner.

Speaking of own little corners…

The lovebirds were both bent over a chessboard, sitting atop lopsided barrels rolled next to a box crate. Both of them had taken about the same amount of pieces from the other. LeRoux was winning, barely. One knight and a pawn over his opponent. Not that Gwen paid much attention to how the game even worked, chess always seemed boring.

"Hey!" She called over the din of voices, waving at them both as she marched over. "You two done?"

"Not yet. I'll beat her in three moves." Percy promised, moving a piece into position with careful motion.

"That's what you said the last time, and I creamed you." Caeldori replied, eyes enraptured with the match. The girl had a… very intense look on her face. One that begot someone who was taking this far too seriously.

"We're five and five." Percy reminded. "About to be _six_ and five."

"In your dreams. I could do this all day." Caeldori answered, before going quiet to contemplate her next move.

Gwen groaned, not wanting to have to wait for this. "Percy, the Cap wants ya tuh go see'er." She explained, jutting a thumb over her shoulder. "Y'know, some time this year?"

"Just give me five minutes…" He requested.

"Five minutes to lose again?" His opponent quipped.

"Five minutes to _beat_ you again."

"Sure, four-eyes. Whatever you say."

"Don't call me four eyes!"

"Should I call you cow-lick instead?"

"Th-that's not any better!"

"You're not getting any better at this game, either."

"Oh that's it-"

The two's bickering was soon cut short, as well as their match. A steel covered foot went forward, kicking the side of their crate and launching the board and all of it's pieces onto the ground. Caeldori yelped in fearful shock, while Percy tumbled over in a rather poor attempt at a dodge-roll.

Gwen, satisfied, retreated her boot and narrowed her eyes at the both of them. "Now, if yer both _done_ actin' like kids…"

Caeldori blinked a few times, before standing up and moving to press the fresh wrinkles out of her clothes. Percy dragged himself up, his spectacles notably knocked askew from his unfortunate fall. The redhead sighed and went over, bending down on her feet and readjusting the eyewear for the boy.

"Are you OK?" She asked her friend, to which Percy quickly and shamefully nodded with pink cheeks. The junior officer giggled at the sight, which only pushed more color into the boy's face.

She stood up after, giving Gwen a look that could only be described as unapproving. "You didn't have to do that."

"I ain't sittin' here for another hour so y'all can decide who's king or queen of the nerds." Gwen replied, ignoring the growing irritation that radiated from the pegasus knight to look at Percy. She offered the boy a hand up, which he readily took so he could be hefted.

"Well, I need to speak with the Captain regardless." Caeldori informed, dusting some crushed grass off of the priest's robes. "Let's clean up the game and return it to my tent, then we can speak with her together."

"No, no. That'll just make us both late." Percy pointed out, crouching back down to do just that. "You go, I'll talk with Miss Severa after."

"She wanted you o'er there ASAP, specs." Gwen reminded.

"The Captain can wait a few minutes longer." Caeldori ensured, seemingly eager to back up the healer's words. "I'll go there now in the meantime.

She turned to leave, before looking back to Percy one last time. "I'll see you at lunch, Percival. Continue then?"

"S-sure. I'll bring the board." He promised, the two sharing a smile before Caeldori exited the scene.

Gwen released a low whistle once the woman left earshot, tilting her head to keep an eye on her 'rear assets' as the rider departed. "Wow. She's good from the front _and_ the back."

" _Please_ tell me you weren't checking out one of our co-workers…" Percy implored, folding the game back up into its travel case.

"Oh hush, I've seen you steal plenty of looks. More then me." Gwen lobbed back, causing the healer to become _extremely_ focused on his cleaning tasks and nothing else.

Chuckling in victory, the sergeant then took her place on Percy's former barrel. The old owner rose up, looking once again in the direction that their third member had departed to.

"Hey, Gwen. Can I ask you something?"

"Yes, Percy, I'll give you some of my oil ration again." Gwen answered immediately. "Gotta stop with the late-night readin', we need our sleep y'know."

"No, not that." Percy corrected, before adjusting. "OK, also that. But I need help with something else."

"Need a test dummy for those new potions you're makin'?" She asked again.

"Gods, no. Those things aren't safe yet, I don't want to hurt someone." He corrected again, moving to sit across from Gwen. "...I need dating advice."

"Datin'..." Gwen repeated, laughing at the thought. "Oh, oh no. You do _not_ want relationship advice from me."

"What?" Percy asked. "Why!? You've been with plenty of people! I still remember back when we were stationed at the castle!"

"Yeah, those were fuck buddies. Not anythin' serious." Gwen informed in the most crass manner possible. "I ain't gone steady with anyone in a while."

Percy held the shocked stare for a few moments, before he bowed his head and sighed in defeat. The man started to gather the box back up. Right before Gwen put a hand on the game and pressed it down.

"This is about the Looie, ain't it?" Gwen asked, to which Percy nodded. Not even trying to hide the fact.

Gwen groaned, lifting her hand and rolling her eyes. "Fer Mila's sake, Percy. Why th'hell're you tryin' tuh get involved with a foreigner? You know that ain't gonna end well!"

Very well aware of her hypocrisy, Gwen's ears rattled as the man responded. "Oh come on, Gwen! We've been working with the Ylisseans for months!" Percy shot back. "And Caeldori's… nice. Really nice."

"Uh huh. And I'm sure it ain't just you swoonin' over a pretty girl." Gwen parried.

"I've never had any interest in you, and you're pretty." Percy bluntly countered himself.

Gwen was taken aback, narrowing her eyes. "Was that a compliment or an insult?"

"Both? Neither? That isn't important!" Percy addressed. "...Look, can you please just give me advice? Come on Gwen, you're the oldest friend I have here."

"I'm not… I _want_ to, but it ain't gonna be good-" Gwen sighed, but relented. "...Look. I'll… I'll tell you what I'd look for in a guy or gal. That work?"

"It's better than nothing." Percy said agreeingly.

"Oh, nice. You're welcome." Gwen growled. "OK, just remember that this might not fit with the Looie. Got it?"

"Got it."

"Right." Gwen said, before taking a deep breath. "I'd want… someone I feel comfortable around. Who I can smile and laugh with, just enjoy myself when I'm with'em."

"But-" Percy stammed, palming his face. "I already spend a lot of time with her! We read books, play games, eat together. She's even teaching me how to fight a little!"

"Gods help'er, when I tried that ya almost skewered yerself." Gwen reminisced, the image of the boy tripping over a training spear and ripping a hole in his robes vivid for some time.

" _And_ I'm showing her how to use staves." Percy followed up, ignoring the memory. Though his hand did rub his side where the wood had bruised him.

"...You really do like'er, don't you?" Gwen deducted. "This ain't a moony crush, you're actually really into'er."

Percival didn't answer with words, sheepishly nodding his head to confirm the woman's theory.

"OK. Then tell her that." Gwen directs. "After y'all play durin' lunch. Just be honest."

"But… what if it doesn't work?" Percy asks in a small voice.

"Then you'll be better off then shittin' around wonderin' otherwise." Gwen brusquely replied, before shooting the man a smile. "...Between you and me though? I've got a feelin' it'll work."

"You think so?" The healer asked, eyes lighting up with hope.

Gwen smirked, remembering how the flier had bent down to help adjust the boy's off kilter spectacles. Her motions were careful, but also caring. Paired with that giggle right after, and…

"Yeah." Gwen affirmed. "Tell ya what? I'll come eat with ya both, give some support."

Percy's smile grew even wider. "Thanks, Gwen. You always look out for me."

"Don't get mushy, y'know I hate that." Gwen deflected, though her own smile betrayed how she felt on the matter. "I gotta leave right after, though. Meetin' someone."

"Still need to give Miss Severa those papers?" He asked.

She shook her head. "Naw, she's makin' me go talk with Miss Blanche."

"What." Percy spouted. " _You_ have a meeting with her Eminence?"

"Yeah." Gwen shrugged, her good mood dying as she remembered what was coming for her. "Dunno why."

"Wow…" Percy said wondrously, pulling the game box over and resting it in his lap. "I almost never get to talk with her. She helps around the healing tent all the time, but she's so busy! She even saved someone who got shot through the chest by a thoron blast!"

"Wow. Amazin'." Gwen answered with disinterest, trapped in the confines of her own mind.

As was Percy, trying to recall all the times he'd seen the Duchy's Archbishop save so many citizens. Even before the war, before she was mending limbs and closing holes. She often visited the castle just to try and sure up the sick as best she could. It was tireless, like she was some kind of machine.

Then, something came back to the boy.

"...Didn't you grow up in her orphanage?" Percy asked. "The one she used to run up until a few months ago."

Gwen didn't respond, playing with a few strands of her wild green hair. Not many people knew about that.

How the woman had taken her off the street. How she'd given her food, and a bed. How she taught her how to read and write. Gave her a life outside stealing from market stalls and pick-pocketing unperceptive merchants.

Not many people knew that at all. She never liked to discuss it.

She stood up, motioning for Percy to do the same. "Come on, let's get tuh the mess tent b'fore the archers take all the good grub again."

* * *

The soldier didn't know how Percy's declaration of his feelings went.

Both of her peers had wandered off together after their meal was finished and the match was over. They'd given her a farewell and a thanks for dining with them, with the boy giving her a squeeze of the shoulder as they left. She still felt the pressure of his hand there, lingering, as she stood in front of the Brigadier's personal tent.

Two armored knights stood guard, spears at arms at the flaps. Both of them looked completely immobile, their eyes hidden behind a shield of steel. Though she was certain they were glaring at her, wondering why this green haired commoner was polluting their presence.

Gwen coughed into a fist, standing up prim and proper before speaking. "I uh… I need tuh talk with the Brigadier." She spoke in a steady voice. "Sarn't Major Mire, she's waitin' for me."

" **Let her in."** The General's voice could be heard, booming through the flaps and hitting Gwen with unearthly force.

One of the living statues lifted his arm, pulling the flap open. Gwen nodded at the suit, walking in. A chill crawled up her spine as the wind pushed by the settling cloth hit her.

She'd only been in this tent once before. At the start of the campaign here, when she had been given her directives on how to act. It was as simple as it had been before. A bed, shrine, desk and clothesline were all that were seen. Fitting decor for a monk.

Blanche sat behind the desk, which was aimed to stare directly at the entrance. Her posture was upright and practiced, hands in her lap. Once again she was clad from head to toe in her War Cleric regalia, helmet and armor shining proudly over her religious robes.

" **Guards."** She began, not shifting her piercing gaze as Gwen felt as if a sniper was preparing to end her life. " **Patrol about. No one comes near this tent until I say otherwise."**

The clunk of steel greaves gave her a cold reply, both wardens enacting their orders. In tandem the Brigadier rose, holding her hands together at the small of her back now.

"You missed your report this week." Blanche spoke, not moving forwards. Not yet.

"Couldn't leave a note at the drop off point." Gwen said, her yokel's pitch falling away. "I've been occupied with my other duties."

"Ah yes, I forgot." Blanche replied sarcastically. "The Sergeant Major position. I forgot how I am the entire reason you _even hold that rank."_

Gwen winced at the holy woman's words, but kept her stance. It wasn't the first time she'd taken a verbal lashing from her.

"No matter." Blanche followed up. "I want you to tell me everything that happened in the Alsace."

The soldier nodded, taking in a breath as she repeated everything that had happened that day.

How they'd infiltrated and assaulted the forward position.

How they'd captured as much gear as they could.

How they stayed behind to attempt an ambush of any reinforcements, and nearly were washed away by the green tide.

And how the elder Volkner had been sitting in the middle of the aftermath. Surrounded by corpses and muttering wildly to herself, all the while clutching her hand as it raged purple. How she'd confronted the officer about it, then how she'd escaped the next wave of mages.

Every memory. Every motion. Every moment. In perfect detail.

By the end, Blanche had begun pacing circles around the teenager. As if she was a buzzard preparing to prey on carrion.

"To clarify." Blanche picked back up, her words moving with an added weight to them. Frustration and anger acting as ballast as they floated from her mouth. "You saw the Fellblood. In broad daylight. Seemingly possessed after slaughtering Valentian soldiers. _With_ her brand ignited."

Gwen gulped. "Yes, your Eminence."

Blanche paused in her stride in front of her subordinate. The chill felt so strong, the younger woman almost felt frost forming on her skin.

"What were your orders?" Blanche asked through clenched teeth.

"To observe and report her activities while in the Duke's service." Gwen answered readily.

"What else." The cleric demanded, the cold spreading even further.

Inhale, exhale. It was as if life was leaving Gwen with each breath.

"...To kill her if she ever became a threat."

"Yes." Blanche confirmed. "That was why I put your dossier on her desk. That was why I had you transferred to her command. That was why, for the past _month_ I have had you watching over that Plegian mutt. And now you tell me, when you had ample evidence that she was a danger to others, you _panicked?_ Not only did you let her live, you _let her return?_ "

Gwendolyn's mouth went dry as a desert, shame and fear intermingling like a cocktail of self-loathing. The Cleric's presence only acting as a catalyst, making her feel like a small child all over again under her roof.

The Brigadier remained still and stiff, expectant of a response.

As such, Gwen did something she hadn't done in months.

"I can't kill an innocent person." The soldier said, truthfully. "She nearly died to keep me safe, along with everyone else in that forest."

Blanche watched on, expression holding as if marble.

"Mother Superior, I'm grateful for what you've for me." Gwen continued, holding firm in the only way she knew how. "You saved my life. I would've died if it wasn't for you. It's because of you I even joined the Ducal Guard, or kept my job after the old Captain had me whipped at that post."

That reminder finally had some effect, the healer's grimace flickering at the memory.

"But I…" Gwen searched for the words. "...It would betray everything your raised us by, if I murdered someone in cold blood. I've done plenty in my life I regret, but I'm _not…_ turning into a murderer."

"You were willing to follow through before." Blanche lobbed.

"That was because I thought she was some kind of… I don't know, Grimleal spy." Gwen explained. "But she isn't. She's a good person who doesn't deserve to die like that."

Blanche inhaled, eyes closing.

Gwen braced, preparing herself for what came next.

"...You have a good heart, Gwendolyn."

The girl went wide-eyed, taking a step back as the Cleric broke her disciplinarian act and frowned. All at once the ice from before melted away, overtaken by a sense of sorrow.

"You're right. Neither Commander Volkner or her sister seem to wish us harm." Blanche admitted, glancing at the shocked expression her ward displayed. "Though I wish you told me this before."

"I… I didn't know how you'd react." Gwen admitted, voice cracking like a pubescent.

"Child, I won't lie. I'm frustrated that you kept this from me." Blanche clarified. "But do you really think I'd ever hurt you?"

"No!" Gwen stammered, lunging forwards and wrapping her arms around her protector. "No, no! I'd never dream of it! I just… I didn't want to disappoint you."

Blanche scoffed, patting the back of the girl's head as she returned the embrace.

"You tried to avoid more death." Blanche explained soberly. "When I gave you these orders, I prayed you'd never have to make that choice. Every day I asked Naga to make sure these people would not hurt us anymore."

"She listened." Gwen answered. "She did. These people wanna save us. All of'em."

Blanche nodded slowly, pulling out from the hug. "I know that now."

The cleric walked back to her desk, sitting atop the wooden frame as her hand rested on an opened letter. "...You're to continue as before. However, I'm amending the specifics."

"Whatever you ask." The soldier declared.

"You only need report to me if new developments occur." The Cleric informed. "With combat having begun, keeping up the old timetable will be more trouble than it's worth. But continue your observations, I will do the same of the Ylssiean Commander."

"Yes ma'am." Gwen answered.

"My order to… _contain_ them remains." Blanche affirmed. "However, I grant you the right to use discretion. But if either of them do become a threat…"

"If I think they'll hurt anyone who isn't trying to kill us, I'll stop them." Gwen declared with absolution. "You have my word, Mother Superior."

Blanche allowed herself the smallest smile. "Good. You're a smart girl… Naga willing, it won't come to that."

Gwen nodded her head. "Anything else?"

"One thing." Blanche clarified. "The Duke and Duchess have decided to promote the older Volkner to Battalion command."

"Am I going with her?" The teenager asked readily, hiding how she was caught off guard by that revelation..

"No." The Cleric said with a soft chuckle, amused with how eager her protege seemed.

"You'll be reassigned in a... _different_ manner."

* * *

 _ **A/N: OC heavy chapter, I know. To the people who're here for the canon people, sorry if this got on your nerves.**_

 _ **When I started this fic, I didn't know how much weight I wanted to put on OCs. But the deeper I get into this, the more I feel like it shows just how the world's changed in Severa's absence. Plus, seeing things through someone else's eyes adds perspective.**_

 _ **That, and writing these guys is a blast for me. What can I say? I gotta be selfish sometimes.**_

 _ **Next arc starts next chapter**_

 _ **Review Responses:**_

 _ **Dandaman5: Record the flip, I love acrobatics :D**_

 _ **SchattenSoldat08: Not exactly a 'clap back'. But I do hope you enjoyed a Mire-centric bit of the story. Gwen is a rather rowdy person whenever she isn't around certain people, but she's also... complicated. As this showed, I hope.**_

 _ **Marengo227: For what it's worth, Periwinkle is a very silvery blue. So you only need to reevaluate 50% of your life.**_

 _ **Also, thanks for the props. I worried that getting too technical would throw people off, but if it works then that's all the better.**_

 _ **Well, that's all. See you in the next chapter everyone.**_

 _ **o/**_


	33. C-26: Cognitive Dissonance

Y'know, maybe Morgan was right about my attitude getting me in trouble.

It's not like I _try_ to stir things up… Ok that's a lie, I always try to. But I try to avoid making a complete fool of myself in the process. You can't prove you're the best if the people around you don't know it. And I'm pretty much the best at most things, so showing off usually works pretty well for me!

...Until I actually get out played, like this.

"You can always capitulate, young one." Virion coos at me. He probably has that stupid smug grin on, too. With how far ahead he is in this match, I can't blame him.

The chessboard is laid out between us as we sit in him and Cherche's sprawling personal tent. He's already claimed half my pieces, and I've only taken five. Already down my queen, and now my King's set up in a crossroad between his knights and a rook.

"You can always bite me, old man." I bite back, scanning over my pieces as I tried to form some kind attack plan. I'm completely on the defensive at this point, and it's hurting any chance I have of bouncing back. Keep falling into these stupid traps of his… ok. I've still got a few pawns. I could use them as a shield… so if I just do this…

"That is an… interesting move." He comments as I slide my piece forward, holding myself still right before I let it go. As I look up, my suspicions are confirmed. The Duke's just smirking at me, like a lion playing with it's food before tearing it to bits.

Don't let him get into my head. Just, focus…

"Check." He comments, right before pressing his bishop forwards. My eyes trace right as he goes to take the pawn immediately. "You're better than when I last saw you. Were you practicing during your little adventure?"

"I had some friends to pass the time with." I mutter out, furrowing my brow. Luckily I've still got one rook left, so I just push it sideways and wipe the bishop off the field. "What? Afraid the little girl you taught how to play is going to kick your arse?"

"Not in the slightest." The archer replies, before pushing his Queen forwards and taking my rook. One look over the board and I see the new situation my king's in. If I press forward, he runs into the knights. I can't go sideways or diagonally now because of the queen. And he's pressed against the edge of the board…

"Damn it." I slump back in my chair and drag both of my hands across my face. Both of my ears can catch Virion chuckling at his victory.

"At least you have learned some restraint." Virion reached to the side of the table, grabbing an ornate cup filled with some weird tea him and Cherche always drink. "Before you left, by now the furniture would have been flipped over and you would have stormed out."

"You're exaggerating." I deflect, shriveling a bit beneath his disbelieving glare and the truth to his words. I _wanted_ to flip the table. Honestly, it was hard enough to stop myself from sprinting out of the room now.

"Fine. You win, I lose. Happy?" I rattle off quickly, the words feeling like acid on my tongue as I sulk in defeat.

"Quite. This has all been rather stimulating." He admits, magnanimous in his victory. Or at least as magnanimous as he'd get. Virion always has that stupid smile on his face. So pleased with himself no matter what. Even as a kid when things were going to hell, I remember him keeping it up.

I start putting the pieces back in place, trying not to bang any of them up. This whole chess set was probably worth more than a week's pay.

"You'll be heading back into the field today." Virion commented, his voice losing the pep in its step. The Duke's hand stroked his chin, blocking any sign of his expression. But if I had to wager a guess, it wasn't a happy one.

"Really? It's almost like you're the one sending me out there." I answer sarcastically, putting my king and queen back in place.

"You could remain here and command from afar." Virion offers. Well, insisted. His voice had a trace of desperation behind it. "People of your rank do not usually lead from the front."

"Pffff." I expel, setting the pawns back in place. "Yeah, right. And what if something goes wrong? I can't clean up your mess if I'm hiding in a tent."

"Fighting injured will likely cause it's own problems." He parries.

My eyes roll, finishing up with the pieces and rolling my shoulders. Some pain flared up from my newest scar.

The gash where Beril shoved her axe through my shield did more damage than I thought, she'd actually nicked some of the bone. Using Sol mended the tissue and dulled the pain, but by Naga it stung now. That, plus the blow I took to the head. Every healer I'd spoken too said I should be resting for at least a few weeks.

Of course we didn't _have_ a few weeks. There was a war on now.

"It has been six days since the truce ended." Virion reflects, contemplating the whole affair. "We've engaged them according to plan, they appear spread thin. Your presence isn't necessary."

" _I can handle myself, old man."_ I hiss, snapping at the sniper's coddling. Virion recoils from the sudden backlash, and I internally wince from my own viciousness. "...Sorry."

I go back to the board, fixing up his side now as we sit in our own silence. My mind's all over the place as usual, thinking about what we've got ahead of us. Supposed to just be a perimeter patrol, guard our flanks. It's easy, something I can handle even if I'm not completely healed just yet.

"You want to protect them." Virion declares, making me look up at him again. I must look as confused as I feel. "You are still worried about Gerome and Cynthia, aren't you?"

Of course he reads me like a book. No use denying it.

"I just want to make sure they're a hundred percent." I admit plainly. "It's been a long time since I did anything with them. Even if this isn't what I'd call _hanging out,_ fighting's how we spent most of our time anyway."

Virion chuckles at my dry quip, but doesn't seem ready to protest my point. "As you wish, young Severa. Just do proceed with caution, we both know how reckless you can get."

"Ugh. What are you, my Dad?" I groan, turning away to hide my red faced embarrassment. Out of all of the adults, why is _he_ the one who can mess with me like this.

This world and the old one. He always did look out for me.

* * *

Even if the stables give me a headache, I find myself spending more and more time in them.

It's quieter here then everywhere else. Most of the riders tend to leave for their drills earlier in the morning, so this place is empty for the most part. Good place to hide when I don't want to get dragged into someone's problems, or when I'm trying to avoid work.

That, and dealing with this brown jerk.

For the past few days I've been trying to make this pegasus Subaki rescued presentable. He's latched onto me now, more's the pity for him. A few other people've tried to get on his back, and… it's ended terribly every time. But he feels fine with me around him. Dunno how he was able to bond with a new partner so soon after losing his old one.

Actually, considering the spur marks, he's probably glad that Pinkie's gone. Seriously, who uses those things on their mount?

Not like he's treating me any better. I brush his hair and bring him oats, take him out for saunters and even tried to heal those scars. He still whinnies and spurs around like a know-it-all. Always giving me that dull eyed stare, like he's watching my every move. The way someone is so they can jump on your mistake and go 'I told you so'.

Pain in my arse, really. Shouldn't bother putting this much effort into him.

Even then, I'm honestly enjoying it.

...Its like how things used to be. Back when I was still Mother's apprentice, I was the one who took care of Aurora. Fed her, cleaned her, even tried to ride her. All I could ever think about was being a pegasus knight just like her. My whole dream was being her successor.

Even with this war and having to fight one last time. Slowly things're finally starting to feel… _right._ Like I'm finally reaching the end of it all. When this is all said and done, I'll get to have what I want.

A normal life. A family. _Peace and quiet._

And all it took was interdimensional time travel. Who'd've thunk.

"There. Should be set…" I said to myself, tying the belt down on my saddle. The thing's loaded with everything I'll need; sword, healing stave, maps, compass, spyglass, food. Even took a fire tome from the armory for a bit of pyrotechnics.

"Don't knock it loose this time. I'm not gonna stitch the leather together again." I command my partner, only getting a non-committal exhale response. Which I quickly slug him in the side for. "I mean it, Camus! Tear up another saddle and I'll make good on sending you to a glue factory!"

"Careful, sis. Mom wouldn't want you hurting the pegasus." I hear someone call, making lean out of the stable to see who's coming.

Morgan's podling her way over, holding a sizable travel case in her hands. She looks better than she did a few days back, all that dreariness and panic's disappeared. The twerp bounced back, like nothing even happened.

"Well Mom isn't here, is she?" I reply, stepping out to put the brush back on a hanging hook on the stable door. "Didn't you say her reinforcements would've arrived by now?"

"I'm sure they're fine. Probably just ran into a speed bump." Morgan assured, coming to a stop so she could run her hand across his dumb little snout. "It's _Mom_ , she could probably take over this whole continent by herself."

The oat-gobbler whinnies gladly. Bugger's enjoying the attention, I can feel it. Just radiating a smug aura.

"Yeah, yeah. Our mother's the most amazing knight to ever live. Any other breaking news?" I drone sardonically, carefully holding back the edge in my speech. Already blew up on one person and the day just started.

"You're a complete egomaniac?" Morgan answers, shutting me up quite well. The snarl I hurl at her isn't even up to snuff, the dig does hurt. Dunno if it's because it's from her or because she's probably right.

"Anyway, I don't have much time. Just needed to drop this off before I leave." She says, pulling her hand back and hefting up the travel case and offering it to me.

"Lemmie guess, it's full of spiders." I wonder dryly, taking it with both hands and feeling out the weight. It's lighter than I thought, heck I think the case is putting more pressure on my grip than whatever's inside. Which means it totally could be spiders. Or frogs, Morgan loves pranking people with frogs. Blame Lissa for that.

"No spiders. Or frogs, tactician's honor." Morgan assures, reading my mind.

Not sure if I believe her, but I can always knock her around if she's lying. I start to undo the locks, and right when I'm about to lift it open, Miss Magic presses her hand on the lid to keep it closed.

And now I'm getting irritated again.

"OK, what gives now?" I ask, before she snaps the thing back out of my hands and holds it close to her chest. A nervous laugh eeks out of her, her eyes jumping about to look anywhere but at me. It's a situation we've been in before, usually when I'm scolding her for doing something stupid like burning the barracks.

Yes, she did that once. Don't ask.

"Um… how uh… crap…" She starts, fumbling over her words. "How's your new friend doing?"

"He isn't my friend, he's my problem." I correct, jabbing my thumb at the dumb guy's face. "If it was up to me we would've just handed him over to Virion's own Pegasus Knight trainees."

"They're a bit off from being partners." Morgan pointed out, fingers drumming against the case's wood.

"Then we could turn him into a pack mule." I offer, not amused. The brown bozo makes a weird sound, almost like he's laughing. At least, I think it's a laugh. Can pegasus laugh? Do they even know what laughing is?

Morgan catches onto this too, focusing her jumping eyes on the topic of our discussion. One of the corners of her mouth curls up. "Well, he seems to think you're friends."

"Good for him." I mull back. "Why do you care about how I feel about a dumb horse?"

"Just curious, is all." Morgan answers in the most weaselly way possible, rocking back and forth on her heels. "Just haven't seen you be around a pegasus this much in a while. Almost makes you think you like him."

I lean up against the post, rolling my eyes. "Never said I didn't like him. Just said he's a pain."

"So you're a perfect match." She teases, giggling as a groan. Why is she always like this? There have to be other people she can bother. "Seriously though, I'm glad. This fella needs someone to look after him."

"I'm just taking care of him until the real pegasus knights're ready for mounts." I deflect.

"Sure. That's why you spend half the day in here or riding him around." Morgan counters. She's wrong, though. I don't spend half the day in here. I just check up on him between meals. And I need to make sure he gets his exercise, so taking him around is the best way to do that.

Oh, I got him fitted for new horse-shoes. His old ones were falling apart though. He could've gotten hurt.

Plus of course I need to keep him clean, it's not like he can brush himself with _hooves_.

There's nothing abnormal about that.

Nothing at all.

Nope.

…

Ok, fine. I've gotten attached to the furball.

"Alright, you got me." I admit, sliding down the wooden door to sit onto the hay covered dirt. Camus looks completely pleased with himself, the dastard. My head thunks loudly as I rest back, both of my hands settling a top my knees.

Morgan giggles, sitting down at my side and placing the box between the both of us. Wringing this out of me's got her happier than she reasonably should be.

"There's something I need to tell you." She starts off, eyes fixed on the roof above us. "Remember a while back, when we were talking about Mom showing you how to fly again?"

I shrug at her, feeling cagey at this new line of questioning. Of course I remember her training me. Over a year after the last battle with Grima, I chalked it up to her trying to pass the time and ignore how badly the search for Dad was going. She put Morgan through the same drills. Even Cynthia and Lucina came along once in a while.

We ran through everything. Some of it was easy to remember from my apprenticeship. First was riding them on the ground, which is actually pretty different from riding a normal horse. Wings and feathers tend to be a bit of an obstacle, plus they're a _lot_ faster even at a run.

After that was take-off. Going off at full gait, then getting into the air. Pegasus can fly fine on their own, but a human on their back throws their balance out of whack really bad. Gotta gain speed, fast as possible before they start flapping their wings.

Congratulations, you're airborne. Now it's getting from point A to point B without falling off and breaking your neck. That, plus Mother made us do more than a few flips and tricks. She even made us fly through a barn for crying out loud, I had hay stuck in my hair all day.

Somehow, I didn't screw up. Somehow I managed to pull off each stunt she asked me to do. Cynthia was able to float around like it was nature to her, meanwhile I was hanging on for dear life. Every second was me trying to fight against some contingency.

When we finally, thankfully landed, it felt like a relief off my shoulders. I got off, practically kissed the ground, then looked back to Mother. She'd smiled and laughed with Morgan and Cynthia, complimented their styles. Even shared a few ideas and maneuvers she didn't dare ask me to attempt. But when she looked at me…

Nothing. No expression, no smile. Just a blank slate. I couldn't read her at all, and that terrified me.

"I flunked." I recall with a huff. "We went through her drills for six months, and she the entire time I was barely skirting along. You and Cynthia were flying circles around me, it was pathetic."

My ears start to burn as she silently looks at me. Her eyes travel up and down, focusing mostly on my outfit. The hole that was torn from my forest fight's been haphazardly patched, but I still haven't gotten a new shield. This old Nohrian uniform of mine is just about to fall apart at the seams.

Morgan's smirk remains, before she leans back again and laughs. Short and dry, as if she just heard a horrible joke.

"Gods, you're such a dolt." She tells the world, before repeating the same laugh. "Maybe I did get all of the family's brains."

"Ouch." I say, not ready to give any witty repartee.

Then she gets to the meat of it all.

"She wasn't training you." Morgan reveals, my head jerking back towards her. Her smile hides itself away, and she says something quietly. It's the first time I've ever heard her talk to herself.

"Cynthia, Lucina and I weren't there to practice. We were witnesses." She explains. "The rules of the Order said that there needs to be either another knight or a member of the royal family watching."

"Rules for what?" I ask in a scared voice.

"You know for what. The entrance tests." My sister answers. "Come on sis, all of that just for _training?_ She did way more than just basics with you. There's things I saw her show you I never even _dreamed of_. And you did all of it on the first try."

Another dry laugh, though now it's weighed in bitterness. "It took me years to even get half that good. You managed it all in months. Fancy that."

"I… I didn't… I'm sorry." I stuttered, not knowing what to say. Normally it was her making _me_ feel inadequate.

Morgan shakes her head, running a hand through her hair. "Don't be. I'm just being a jealous brat." She consoles. "Wish I had that kind of talent. I'm good at plenty of things but… I'm not great at anything."

"You're a better tactician than Dad at this point." I tell her. "And no, I'm not exaggerating."

"Shame I'll never get to test that theory." She laments with a sigh. "That's not what we're talking about."

"No, it isn't." I agree, pulling us back on track.

I hear her mutter something to herself. Something about… forgiveness. Telling someone she's sorry.

"Mom was gonna ask you to join the Knights right when you left." She tells me. "You aced every test, only problem you had was fighting with a spear."

My sister waits for me to respond, but I have nothing to say. So instead she lifts up the travel case and places it into my lap, popping the locks back open before letting me do as I please.

"Open it. Late birthday gift." She jokes. And I oblige, not sure what else I can do now that we've gone this far.

Inside's a thick, puffy tunic. Blue and white stripes flow along the sleeves like the ocean's foam, wrapping along in parallel from the cuff to the collar. Underneath are some long red stockings and a white belt-cape, with a pair of fingerless brown gloves resting on the top.

"Growing up all you ever cared about was being a Knight." Morgan muses, joy seeping back into her voice. "The happiest I ever saw you was when you were trying to fly. Then Mom died, and all those jerks came and ruined it for you."

"I didn't deserve it." I hum. "I failed the test so many times."

"There's… more to it than that." She hums back at me, collecting herself. "But you passed now. You've earned this."

I dip my hands into the box, feeling the fabric through my hands. It's dense, but light. Breathable, made for the air. But enough fabric to shield someone from wind and rain.

"...Why a Falcon Knight?" I ask. Not that I wanted to be the alternative.

"You're an officer.' She says, stating the obvious. "Only officers who ride pegasus are Falcon Knights and Dark Fliers. And I've already got the second part handled, so…"

"Same but different."

"Yeah. Plus, you're better with healing and I'm better with tomes." She adds, looking over to the mend staff hanging off from the saddle. "The armor and boots are in your tent. Grab them before you leave, I'm pretty sure most of your group's already left."

"I told them to leave early." I tell her, not mincing words. If we're going to be watching out for sneak attacks, then I need to get my scouts set up as quick as possible. All of them should already be on their way, and I'll just fly to catch up.

Having done what she came to do, Morgan stands up. She pats away the yellow straw that's stuck itself to her cloak, yawning to no one in particular. Acting like she didn't just drop bombshell after bombshell on right before I'm about to go back into a war zone.

"Sev." She says, her smile bubbling up.

"We're gonna win." She promises. "Everyone's gonna be fine. Then I'm gonna take you, Subaki and Caeldori back home."

"And we'll get to be a family again." I say, finishing her train of thought.

"Yeah. You, me and Mom. Just like old times."

"Just like old times." I repeat.

The three of us together again. My heart's still fighting if I should be happy or terrified at that prospect.

* * *

The armor's gold, just like his.

It's encasing me now, shoulders and chest. Two leg protectors hang off the belts around my waist, the cape's tucked into the top of my boots. New pair of white ties to do up my hair, gloves on both hands. The whole ensemble feels… lighter. Even the chestpiece doesn't really seem to constrict my movement.

Guess that says something about my chest, though. Can barely feel them press up.

Ugh, now I'm thinking about Owain's wife. And Lady Camilla. Why do all the other girls get bigger cans than me? They're carrying pairs of melons and I'm here with… grapefruits. Then again… guess being surrounded by cute girls _and_ guys is a plus.

Gah, no. No naughty thoughts, I'm not single. Shouldn't even be complaining about this. Flying with big tits would be such a pain.

I've ridden out to the outskirts of camp. There's a wide, flat field in front of me. Plenty of room for a good take-off, and with my rust I want to avoid anything tricky.

"Try not to trip over yourself during the launch." I tell Camus, half-joking. He blinks at me, clearly insulted. Pretty sure he's thinking about not moving at all now. But he does as I ask, takes a few steps back. When he runs, he goes _hard._ I can hear his hooves digging deep into the dirt as we pick up more and more speed.

Ten seconds later, we're there. He starts flapping his wings.

Once, twice, three times. Feathers and hair everywhere. Then the jolt comes, and suddenly you're off the ground. The green blow me starts to become smaller and smaller, diving under the treeline as I feel my heart jump into my throat.

At that point it's all communication.

People like to think that they're in charge when they're flying. People enjoy being in _control_ , not leaving stuff to chance. Because if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself. That's the motto I've lived my whole life by.

That was the hardest thing for me to forget. The need to control. To just trust someone else to handle it.

When you're in the air, you're not driving. You're guiding. You can direct, suggest, _ask_ a pegasus to do something or go somewhere. But they're completely liable to ignore you and send you for a head dive straight to the afterlife. It's a partnership, and it needs to be a healthy one if both of you want to last long.

We gain more and more altitude, going wide over the treeline and far above what any sensible person would consider comfortable. I keep myself low and pressed against my mount's back, avoiding getting his hair and mine slapped across my face.

Once we level out, and the camp turns into a spec behind us, I feel myself relax and de-stress. One look behind and I can see we've already made more distance than anyone could've on horseback.

"So you _can_ fly! I was worried these wings were for show!" I taunt as I turn forward, a disparaging whinny coming back at me. Yeah, yeah. Complain all you want, you little shite. I'm not gonna go easy on you just because we're in the sky.

I forgot just how _small_ things got this far up. Trees and hills quadruple my size look like anthills and blades of grass. Everything's so quiet and serene. Not a sound except the wind sheer and flapping wings.

Everything just feels so safe and perfect. Like I've finally come home after being gone for way too long. Even if I still feel a bit uneasy, it's not alien. Just familiar and… a bit terrifying.

I pull out a map and compass, make sure we're still heading the right way. I told Caeldori to take everyone out to the south-west, set up a staging ground. And I shouldn't be that far behind.

Except… there's smoke coming over the horizon. Way, way further than they should've gotten.

"Who the hell…" I mutter, looking through my spyglass to try and see what's happening. It's in the same direction the Valentians are supposed to be coming from but, why would they set a fire? Signal smoke? They have their own messengers, doing this just gives away their position.

Maybe a distraction? But it's so far away, back into the forest. I'd have to go across the river again to get anywhere near it. And it has to be huge, if I can see it this far off.

"I don't like this." I mutter, packing everything back into my satchel and grabbing the reins. "OK, get us to the rendezvous. South by Southwest, take us _low_. Can you handle that?"

He tilts his head back to spy at me, then looks down again. Directly below us, lining himself up.

...Oh Gods, he isn't gonna-

My whole body jerks back as he pulls us into a breakneck dive. Once again I find myself clinging for dear life. Every cell in my body's trying to scream for help, but my mouth is sewn shut from the shock and fear.

The trees come up close before he lunges us back up again, branches skitting against his legs and pine needles flying around like shrapnel. He levels us out just above the treetops, but I'm still trying to level out my Gods forsaken _breathing_.

I'm partnered with a demon horse. Why in the hell did I get partnered with a demon horse!?

But we're in one piece. My ego's shattered but at this point in my life that happens daily so, I'm used to it now. As I grip the reins again, I give them a sharp tug, pulling his head back so he knows to slow down. Though that trick of his probably shaved off another five years from my lifespan.

"Never. **Ever**. Do that again." I force through grit teeth, getting no reply from the flying rat. Other than his stupid, smug aura shining as always. "At least _warn me._ I could've died! You want that to happen!?"

' _Quit whining, you're fine.'_ The voice chimes, that same stabbing sensation coming through my head. Great, now bizzaro me's come back!

"Oh not you again." I hiss out loud, talking to myself like a basket case. "Don't you have anything better to do?"

' _Well one of us has to be focused.'_ It taunts back giddily.

"I'd be more focused if I didn't have a voice in my head."

' _Really? Then you know that you're about to overshoot where your friends are.'_ The echo points out.

My vision unblurs, and I suddenly see what she means. In the clearing I can see purple and blue uniforms still on the march, near the rear's a black form that's obviously Gerome's Minerva.

The voice laughs in victory before disappearing entirely. Why does she always do that?

"Camus, land." I instruct. By some miracle he complies immediately.

Some soldiers cry out as we skirt right above their heads, then hit the ground running. One strong flap from his wings brings us to a full halt, hooves leaving skid marks and kicking up the dirt.

We trot off towards the group, the smoke cloud still holding in my mind as we approach.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Nothing really of note here. Next up's when the fighting starts again.**_

 _ **o/**_


	34. C-27: Enemy of my Enemy

There's a blur of motion around me as I trot up to my friends.

Everyone's still formed into columns, and no one understands why we've stopped yet. Men and women alike are chafing next to one another, nervous speak riding along the group like a wave. A few cavaliers are trotting about, watching the perimeter for any surprises. Pre-battle nervousness, same as always.

The problem is, we're still pretty close to the camp. I'd only been flying for about ten minutes, the rendezvous was still a while out. Why were we holding here?

"Hey!" I call over to the gaggle of winged beasts idling on the side of everyone. Heads turn to face me, both animal and human.

Cynthia's the first expression I see, the princess' eyes blinking rapidly before she starts squealing in a pitch so high I can hear her on the approach.

Caeldori's next, holding that know it all smug grin. She knew I was gonna be wearing this, I can tell. Which means I know who exactly gave my sister my measurements.

Gerome peaks over. I can't tell what he's thinking because, again, mask. He goes back to watching the coming treeline. Dumb emotionally stunted jerk…

Last is Gwen, standing on the ground next to Caeldori's mount. The hayseed's wearing a grey shoulder-cape now, along with two black feathers sticking out of her helmet. She waves me over urgently, which only means something really _is_ wrong.

...Subaki isn't there.

"Where's my husband?" I ask immediately as I slip into the opening of the circle they made for me. Camus whinnies, trading looks with his winged counterparts. Sort of a silent discussion in their own way.

"He went ahead tuh do some scoutin'." Gwen tells me, giving Camus a nudge with her elbow. "Lookie you, eh? When'd you learn how tuh fly?"

"She's always known." Gerome throws at us, going quiet as quickly as he spoke.

"But she's always hated it!" Cynthia declares, holding her arms tight to her own chest with a smile the size of the moon. "Oooh, this is perfect! We can finally be flying partners again just like when Aunt Cordy was teaching you!"

My eyes roll, but my face relaxes. It's hard to stay mad at Cynthia, especially when she's this happy about something. "Wanna take a spin?" I offer. "Bet I can beat you in a race."

"Oh you are _so_ on!" Cynthia starts, right as Caeldori coughs into a fist.

"I'd ask we wait for _after_ Captain Takeda returns." My daughter requests, getting us to both relax back into our saddles in dejection. Though a sly smirk shines from her still. "And I could beat you both blindfolded."

Cynthia gasps out loud at the bold declaration, while I throw my head back and laugh with pride. Little girl's more competitive than I am, I love it.

"All of y'all're ridin' things, maybe I should get one too." Gwen comments, pulling on the hem of her cape. Getting a better look at it, I see the Fleur of Roseanne sewn into the center. "I'd make a pretty good cavalier, doncha think Looie?"

"I am certain you'd be wonderful at it Gwen." Caeldori agreed with a chuckle. "And we're Captains now, remember?"

"You're always gonna be 'Looie' tuh me Caledori." She shoots back, then looks up at me. "I see you lookin' at muh cape. Waddya think?"

"Snazzy. Where'd you get it?" I ask.

"Cap'n Lowell, actually." She tells me, nodding at Cynthia. "Made the thing for me after we got introduced."

Now it's my turn to be surprised, following her gaze to my old friend. "Since when do you sew? You always said you hated that girly stuff."

"Hey, I can do more than fight y'know!" Cynthia protests, pouting. "Besides, Gerome and I live pretty far from any cities. We're… uh... self-sufficient! Yeah!"

"So that means… you _cook_ too." I ponder, before looking to the back of her hubbies head. "I am so sorry for you."

I can still see Cynthia's face fume red in frustration from my teasing, and boy does it feel like victory. Being able to push her buttons like this is just _relaxing_. I've needed a new punching bag.

...OK, that sounded better in my head. But the point remains.

Gerome grunts, which leaves ample room for Cynthia to defend herself.

"I'm not just a hero of justice anymore!" She says, puffing her chest out and taking up a pose you'd see on a recruitment poster. "I'm Cynthia, Pegasus Knight and Mom Extraordinaire! Scourge of villainy and protector of the next generation! Shining beacon to a-"

"So where's your kid then, Mom Extraordinaire?" I say, stealing her thunder gleefully as her posturing deflates with all of her bluster. "Shouldn't you be off changing his diapers?"

"Jack does **not** wear diapers, he's four years old!" She protests indignantly with her fists clenched.

"I was the one who changed them regardless." Gerome croaks again, flustering Cynthia even more. Myself, Caeldori and Gwen giggle along with the royal's complete and utter defeat.

"Not my fault, diapers are… _icky_." Cynthia says with a clear shudder, regaining her composure. "I bet you made Subaki change them too!"

The blood drains from my face at the mention of cleaning Caeldori, and Caeldori quickly quiets down. I'm not embarrassed, I'm actually _scared_. Mostly because…

"Wait, Cap. You're a Mom?" Gwen asks me, so completely out of the loop she doesn't even know there is a loop. "I mean, you've got the hips but…"

I'm still quiet. If I admit anything, it'll spur more questions from Gwen. Almost _no one_ knows about who Caeldori really is, it'd be way too weird to explain. So I stay frozen and stare at Cynthia's victorious grin, knowing she's shut me up completely. Gerome's pleased with the end result as well.

I got outsmarted by Cynthia. I got outsmarted. By _**Cynthia.**_ **HOW?!**

Gwen looks between me and my daughter, still completely confused. But she can at least read the room and see that I really don't want to stay on this topic.

"Think I hear horses." She comments idly, making my ears perk up. Sure enough, I catch the sound of stomping hooves coming close.

We all turn to look over to the brush, watching for a minute before a squadron of horses bust through. Twigs and leafs hang off their uniforms, along with a few splotches of dirt. No one seems to be hurt, and I don't see any signs of fighting. So my guess is that things are fine.

I spot Subaki ride in at the rear, his second right beside him.

Both of us lock eyes, and I know something is wrong.

* * *

"You're sure?" I ask my husband one more time.

"I'm certain. And they're heading right this way." He tells us.

We've moved our group into the treeline watching over the next stretch of open field, looking out in the direction Subaki's scout group rode in from. All of us have our weapons drawn now, whatever enjoyment we were indulging ourselves in thrown out the window.

Behind us all of the men are in a combat formations. Archers in the center, both infantry companies standing in front of them with shields and weapons up. The cavaliers are still roaming around, occasionally riding back to us and feeding reports of the approaching force.

"This is bad." Caeldori hums. "We're too close to camp. Many of the non-combatants are still there."

"So's Percy." Gwen hums, which seems to make my kid even more nervous. "Maybe we should've brought the healers after all."

"We weren't expecting anyone to get this far. Father said this would merely be a patrol." Gerome points out, patting Minerva's head as the overgrown lizard huffs angrily. Steam pours out of her nose, she can smell a fight's brewing.

"Subaki said they're already pretty banged up! If we attack them now, we could catch them by surprise!" Cynthia offers.

"Too risky. Dunno how many the Greenskins got comin' this way." Gwen counters.

"Miss Cynthia has a point, it may be opportune to strike preemptively." Caeldori follows.

"Agreed." Gerome adds.

"I concur with Captain Mire. We should hold." Subaki assesses. "All I saw were a group of skirmishers, it would be foolish of them to have been sent with no escort."

"If they're _mages_ then we need to get in close before they can start hurling fireballs at us!" Cynthia protests further, before looking at me expectantly. "Come on Sev, let's go! We can chase these baddies off no problem!"

I sigh and try to shut out all of the excess noise, closing my eyes and thinking about everything I know.

Subaki had come back, saying he spotted a large group of people in green walking in our direction. They were battered, badly. Like they'd already found themselves in a fight. They weren't cohesive either, no real formation. Just a blob.

Hunting them down would be the best play. Attacking'em unorganized would be the quickest way to rout them from the field, plus we'd be able to avoid casualties. I might not even need to commit my entire force. And it'd ward off any threat to the camp and our command staff.

But why was I so hesitant?

' _Because you're a wimp.'_ The voice chides, making me grimace. ' _Who cares if they're messed up? Easy pickings. It's a war, sister. Better them than you.'_

' _I'm not having a repeat of Hoshido. Now piss off.'_ I think back, forcing the oncoming headache to the side as I try to keep a hold on reality.

We were supposed to be the only friendly force here. Everyone else was off in the real battle, fighting the Valentians on our own terms. So if _our_ people hadn't attacked them…

I had an idea who did. And that smoke cloud I saw earlier was only feeding into my biases.

"We're staying here." I finally declare, not caring about the range of responses I heard fill my ears. "Keep an eye out for them, I need to see this for myself."

I hear an oncoming horse to my left, and look to see Rudy riding up as fast as he can through the trees. When he arrives he gives me a quick salute, one I wave away with my hand.

"Report." I order.

"One of the squadrons just came back, the Valentians'll be here in five minutes at most." He tells me, stirring my mount and everyone else back to life. He peers around me, looking at Subaki. "I gave the fall-back order to the cavalry, Captain Takeda."

"Good work, Rudolf." Subaki replies with a fatherly smile. "Go reorganize the men, prepare them for battle. I'll rejoin you momentarily."

"Gwen, go with him. Get your company ready too." I say, seeing her smirk.

"Sure thing, boss." She agrees, going over to Rudy and grabbing the reins of his horse. She gives them a tug, guiding it and him back away from us. "Come on Rudy, let's get ready for the party. I'm ready tuh have some fun!"

"I don't know if I like your kind of fun." I hear him say carefully, his tone becoming awfully choked.

"Oh please, my kinda fun keeps you up _all night_." She chirps back, innuendo not lost on me at all. I think back to a few days ago in my old tent, then sigh in exasperation as my brain adds two and two together. The denial, the weird look, that stupid happy glow she had walking into my tent.

She slept with Stahl's brother. Gods damn it, is everyone in this Army getting some but me!? I haven't gotten lucky in months!

Once the two butt-buddies leave earshot, I look back at who's left. "Cynthia, on my signal, your archers open fire. Gerome, stay up here with me while your group sticks back in reserve."

"Got it." The wyvern rider says.

"You can count on me!" Cynthia says.

"When the fighting starts, the four of us go airborne and hit them from above." I continue to explain, before looking to Subaki. "You're in charge of everything down here while we do that."

"I'll take the utmost care." My husband promises, still scanning the field with his spyglass.

"Perfect." I say, hearing the shuffling of troops behind us as I sit back and return to observation.

Not a word's spoken between us again until we see it.

In the distance, a large mass shuffles out of a far treeline and keeps moving on. Most of the people are on the ground, with a small contingent riding horses covered in thick metal plating. Everyone's got a layer of black soot and muck covering over their green uniforms, barely noticeable under it all.

The way they're angled, they're not marching at the camp. Actually they'll just keep going right past it. And judging by what I can see, they don't really seem to be headed anywhere in particular. There's no purpose to it.

"They have wounded. A lot of them." Subaki tells me, leaning over to pass his optic. I take it up and bring it to my eye.

Battered… was an understatement. There's whole chunks of clothes and plate missing from a lot of these people. Too many of them are limping, being helped along by a friend or being totally carried by more than one. Mages, myrmidons, great knights… nothing we have could've done this much damage.

' _Charge.'_ The voice tells me.

I hand Subaki his spyglass back, look to the sky, then over my shoulder. Everyone's ready to go.

"...Gerome, can you take off from in these trees?"

"Minerva can push through, yes." He confirms.

"Good. Cynthia, you have your stave?"

"Yeah! But… no one's hurt yet." She tells me.

As the mob approaches closer, I make a decision and urge Camus onwards.

"We're marching out." I tell everyone, waving to Caeldori. "Get the horn out and signal the advance, single time."

Caeldori takes the device out, giving the nozzle a wipe before bringing it to her mouth. She takes a long breath, then releases a pair of long blares. It's deep baseful boast that roars out, rushing over the open green and soaring into the sky.

Gerome, Cynthia, Caeldori and I kick forward. Each of us going airborne and hovering around fifty meters above the ground. Below us everyone else advances, blue and purple enveloping the green below.

Up here I could make out the size of their force in comparison to ours. They weren't just battered, they were _tiny_. We had double their number easily.

This wasn't a raiding party at all. They were obviously running from something.

And that smoke plume was getting closer.

The Valentians realize what's going on now, and I can see green dots run around in a flurry of motion. A few people break rank, deserting without even trying to put up a fight. But most of the troops try and form up a weak, single line formation. Mostly myrmidons and fighters, but a few armored knights sure up their flanks. Others hobbled behind, probably the ones too hurt to stand.

"This is going to be a massacre." Caeldori laments, trepidation and regret seeping through every word. Her face is elongated by a pained expression, accenting each of her words. "We can't do this."

"Calm down." I tell her, watching Cynthia shift nervously in her seat as well. She didn't really take much to this whole killing thing either, even if she was scary good at it.

"Calm down?" She questions, fuming as she jabs her spear towards the line. "This is going to be just like the forest! Now instead of killing people while they're asleep, we're going to slaughter them when they're already crippled!"

"I said, calm down." I repeat, tone level. "Once they're surrounded, sound the halt."

Caeldori blinks at me, confused, but compiles. Again she brings the horn up.

The small group of green dots are surrounded quickly. Their front and flanks are totally enveloped, with only the rear being left open for people to try and flee. None of them do. Everyone who would or could run already had, long since made it out of my vision. Logic says I should send someone to hunt them down before they get help, but I've got a gut instinct no one's going to save these people.

The pincer is completely set up. As my men keep going forward, Caeldori sounds the halt. All motion stops at once.

Caeldori and Cynthia dive down, Caeldori darting towards her father and Cynthia floating over to her own group. Gerome and I remain hovering above, watching on as everyone below us froze into their spots. Spears, swords and axes at the ready.

"You should probably head back to your company too." I pass idly, but mister masquerade doesn't do so. He just keeps watching on, pensive and sullen. Which is what he usually does, but not when we're on the battlefield.

"A fly get into your mouth or something, oh Prince of Darkness?" I ask him, recalling the old nickname I used to tease him with as a kid. Owain stole it when we jumped worlds, but it still fit Gerome better.

"I don't recall you being one for leniency." Gerome speaks, Minerva continuing to eye what probably looked like food to her. Domesticated or not, wyverns were carnivores. Maybe _that's_ why he was keeping a wide birth.

"If we're the good guys, we should act like it." I tell him, eying him up trepidatiously. "You disapprove?"

"...No. Merely surprised." He informs. The man then clicks his tongue, and both of the blacked figures descend.

In the future, me and him were probably the biggest hardliners in our group. Lucina always kept saying we should be careful and considerate, doing everything we could to save who was still left alive. Gerome and I were more focused on winning, and we were usually happy to use means she didn't approve of.

Hm. Even Gerome's mellowed out. What a weird world.

Leaning forward, I speak into Camus' ear clearly and concisely. "Bring us down. _Gently_ this time, I don't want whiplash."

* * *

Another half an hour later, we're still in the same spot.

The Valentians surrendered without a fight. The handful of leaders they had came forwards, formally asking for quarter in return for surrender. Apparently quite a few of them were knocking on death's door, and from what was visible I don't think he's lying.

We disarmed them, every soldier handing over their blade willingly. The badly injured were strapped onto the back of some horsemen and rushed back to camp after Cynthia and I sealed up their wounds. Subaki and the rest of the cavalry took the remaining wounded back to camp.

A detachment of infantry was playing guard with me here. Everyone else was spread out across the clearing, within eyeshot but well out of yelling distance. Cynthia, Gerome and Gwen were all off doing their own thing. I was here keeping a personal eye on our 'guests'.

They sat in the center of the field, depressed and dilapidated. Faces look just like the ones from our time. Dead, nothing of note. Their eyes don't have any reflection, I can't read thoughts behind any of them. They've all been broken, mentally and physically. Only a few seem to still have enough faculties to try and keep others organized.

Refugees from Risen. I hate it when I'm right.

"This is Lieutenant Moltke." Caeldori tells me, both of us standing at the side with a new face. "He's the highest ranking survivor of this… what did you call it?"

"Kampfgruppe." Moltke explained, offering me a deep bow. "I would like to offer you my gratitude for giving my men quarter, Major Volkner."

The brown haired, green eyed knight had removed his dented helmet. Though he kept his heavy steel armor on, he felt more relaxed now. Maybe because he could finally stop running, maybe because this was the end of the line one way or the other.

"Ylisseans aren't much for cruelty. Walhart's not our role model." I tell him, leveling a passive-aggressive jab at his whole operation.

Jab doesn't land, or it goes over his head. Either way he nods. "My father spoke well of your Exalt as I grew up. Your Halidom is quite merciful, an admirable trait."

"Merciful enough to you and your… 'kam-fy-grouper'." I manage out, the weird word getting lodged in my throat. Pretty sure I botched the pronunciation on that horribly.

He chuckles heavily through the steel of his helmet. "It's the language of my native Duchy, we've only recently joined the One Kingdom."

"Explains why you didn't suicide-charge us." I observe, my erstwhile enemy wincing.

"Yes, the other provinces are rather zealous." He tells us with a tired huff. "In truth, they tend to unnerve my people. Loyalty to his Highness is one thing, the Rigelians are something else."

"Rigelians?" Caeldori asks.

"Natives from the old Kingdom of Valm." He corrects. "Those who live close to the Capitol city."

"Hrm." I think, logging that bit of knowledge for later. The different regions seemed to hold different customs.

"You said that your regiment was attacked by Risen. You're sure about this?" I ask, getting the discussion back on track.

"I know of no other undead beast, milady." Moltke tells me. "Though I'd hoped I'd never suffer witness to the terrors."

"You've never seen them before?" I ask, caught off guard. "I thought the Risen almost overran Valm."

He shakes his head. "They were contained in the north, thankfully. The Fell Dragon swept across the northern Dynasts, wiped them from existence."

"So everyone who isn't from the Northern part of the continent has never seen one of these creatures?" Caeldori asks, latching onto my confusion.

Again the man shakes his head. "The Church marshaled an Army and managed to keep them at bay." He lays plainly. "How do you not know this? Your ally's Army is commanded by one of the crusaders."

My face grimaces reflexively as Blanche is mentioned once more. So that's why Virion picked her to be the General instead of letting Cherche run the show. A whole armed force of Monks and Clerics. Home doesn't have anything like that. A few militant orders and temple guards, but not enough to keep Grima's risen cordoned off. _Definitely_ not enough to hold them back.

Note to self, do not fight the Valmese Church. Hope to Naga they don't join the other side.

Moltke swelters from the silence, perturbed by the pensive quiet that's overtaken me and mine. "But yes, they overwhelmed us rather easily."

I sigh, trying to get my bearings back to the problem in front of me. I could interrogate Her Holiness after this was all done. "Do you know where they were going?"

"They were following us for a time, but we lost track of them." He drops on me, my jaw detaching from my head. "We were holding in reserve for the main battle, but then they came from behind our lines. It was completely unexpected"

I stare at the man from a moment, completely dumbstruck. I knew that smog cloud could have been them, but it was still _far_ last I saw it. Since then it's disappeared entirely!

"You- I- **you could have opened with that!"** I roar at the man he stumbles back a few paces, almost losing balance in that lumbering suit of armor he's trapped in. Meanwhile I whip my eyes towards Caeldori.

"Father's company hasn't returned from escorting their wounded back." She warns me, gravity hitting her hard as she tries to come up with a plan. "I'll get Hinoka, try and consolidate the m-"

She doesn't get to finish the sentence. Not before the field is filled with the sound of an ear-piercing cry. Myself, my kid, Moltke. All the soldiers and prisoners around us lift their head to the sound.

We look towards the far treeline, the treetop branches ruffling violently.

Then a trio of Wyverns burst through, leafs flying everywhere in a forceful explosion. Smoke and ash curls from the three beast's wings as they split apart, each one darting towards the larger groups.

From ground level, the undead footmen start to hobble out. A hodge-podge of different bodies. Some soldiers, some farmers, some shopkeepers. Each of them holding either a proper weapon or whatever large branch they could get their hands on.

Ash lifts up from their rotting corpses, no longer blocked off by the canopy of the forest. A black cloud forms above their horde, blotting out the sun and casting a long shadow over their advance.

So many. The most I've seen since Grima's resurrection.

And here we are, completely unprepared.

As my soldiers watch on, stunned, I run over and grab one by the shoulder. Forcefully I spin her around, jabbing my finger in her face, then at Moltke.

"Get him and the rest of his men armed! **NOW!** " I command, practically throwing her in the direction where we piled up all the weapons. She stumbles off, sprinting towards the cache while Moltke runs to the Valentians. His voice can already be heard trying to rally his shell-shocked troops back into a combative nature.

"I'll get on Hinoka and find Father!" Caeldori tells me, whistling sharply. Above us I can see her mount dart down, landing at her side and allowing her to swiftly get on her back.

As she's about to take off, I run to grab at her leg. She stops, giving me a strained look.

"Find you Aunt." I correct her, making her stammer in protest. " **No buts!** Get her to send as many people as she can here! Your Dad'll be here soon enough!"

"It'll take me an hour to even get to her!" Caeldori yells back. "If you don't want me to get Father then I'm stay-"

"Caeldori. There's too many of them." I tell her, my grip getting tighter around her boot. I feel my nails start to dig through the leather. "Even with your Father, we can't hold them forever. I can't leave, it'll make everyone panic. Gerome and Cynthia will be better off here than playing messenger."

I can see tears start to well in her eyes. My grip loosens from her leg, but I know it isn't because of the pain. We've done this song and dance before, except now she doesn't know what she'll be coming back to.

"I love you. You know I do." I tell her firmly, like it's the only truth there is. "I'm not letting you stay here just to get killed. Now **go!** "

I shove her horse, but it doesn't do much. Hinoka just looks down at me, mouth curled in disapproval. Caeldori watches for a few moments more, then takes off. A puff of white feathers falling where she once was.

I take what might be my last look at my daughter as she flies off, then bring my fingers to my mouth and whistle.

" **Camus! Where are you!?"** I call out, looking around as men and women start forming up. Purple and green meld together seamlessly, sergeants and corporals belting orders while Moltke takes control over the mixed rabble.

Camus doesn't arrive. He isn't anywhere nearby. Now of all times, he decides to be insubordinate.

"Useless fucking horse." I curse, drawing my blade out and moving to the front of the formation. I find Moltke rather quickly, the man shoving weapons into the hands of his remaining soldiers. I take position at the side, waiting for everyone to get prepared while watching the battlefield

The creatures are splitting apart now, forming smaller hordes within the mass. They move towards the different pockets of humans scattered around, catching their scent and honing on. It makes them a smaller target, which mitigates their advantage in numbers a bit.

I need to mitigate it more. Regroup and dig in.

My eyes focus on the closest pocket of soldiers, already getting surrounded by one of the blobs. The din of the melee already echoes as steel meets steel.

" **Everyone, on me! Double time!"** I order, jogging forward and waving with my sword. Behind me the troops start to march at the same tempo, boots pounding against the grass and dirt. It's like a violent, uncontrolled drumbeat.

As we get closer and closer, I see the lavender colored soldiers get pushed back further. One by one, they seem to fall to the ground.

The Risen are still idiots, they don't notice that we're coming in from their flank.

Just a bit more… just a little bit more…

Almost…

Now.

" **CHARGE!"** I holler loudly, breaking into a sprint. The men and women behind me scream loudly, all of us announcing our presence as we run at full tilt. In unison, the assaulted soldiers start to push back again with force. Keeping the zombies pinned in place as we come.

One of the Risen turns his head and looks at us, just as we clash.

He's the first one who gets my rapier through his heart.

The force of our strike makes many of the beasts fall to the ground. A bunch of them get trampled to dust under our boots. Screams of pain and unholy hissing above it all, dull thuds accenting as bodies fall.

Meanwhile I'm just slashing my way through the blob. It's easy for me, I don't need to think about it.

Cut a mage in half, spin.

Stab through a mercenary's mouth, jump.

Tackle an archer, then stomp his head clean into the earth.

Stand back up, stab another terror. Lose my grip on my rapier, so I rip the axe from his hands and lodge it into his own face.

Again, and again, and again. There's no sense of time, nothing else in the world but this fight

All the while the voice drones in my head, telling me where to make my hits. And I can feel myself smiling the whole time. Part of me's horrified, I thought I moved past this. But the rest of me enjoys every single attack. This is my element. _This_ is where I come into my own. Fighting and killing these freaks of nature, wiping them out one by one. Even as I feel my brand burn to life, I don't care. It feels good. It feels **great.**

Until it stops, the last of this group melts away into dusty smoke.

Around me sound remains muted, I can barely hear soldiers gather themselves back up. Organization tries to reform, more orders are handed out. Around me I can see people scraping themselves back to their feet.

With the bodies gone, there's no human dead I can see. Yet.

But I'm not satisfied yet either.

" **Moltke!"** I call out, and the knight shuffles over. I can see his eyes focus on the purple mark, his spear clutched firmly in his grip.

As he approaches, I lift my sword up. He can't stop as the tip of my blade makes a clear barrier between myself and him.

"Not. A. Word." I hiss at him, channeling my inner Grimleal as I see his jade eyes bulge in fear. "Take all these people, move to the next group. Save them. Then you take _them_ , and save the next. Got it?"

He nods rapidly, scared shitless. I step forward, closing the distance between myself and him.

"What's wrong, pretty boy?" I ask, my brain going fuzzier and fuzzier. My voice doesn't sound like my own again, like it's coming from someone else's mouth. "Come on, you can tell me."

He still remains quiet, but his eyes firm up. "Put. Your weapon. Down." He tells me.

"Why, so you can skewer me?" I tell him.

His eyes flick to my hand, fixating on the purple smog that curls up from it, before flicking back to me. Both irises are steely now, his nerve having returned. "We can deal with that later, _Fellblood_." He states, the moniker falling from his tongue like it's toxic. "But for now, we remain allies."

That word slaps me back, sound returning along with color. My vision clears up, and I can see more than just Moltke. Around me, Valentians are noticing the standoff. Some of them point their weapons in my direction, while others stand back as they also catch the brand's burn.

My men see it as well. The Roseanneans watch on, unsure about what to do. Meanwhile the Ylisseans move to my sides, protecting me from anyone who tried something stupid.

I pull my blade back, arm hanging at my side.

"Let's get moving." I say, to him and everyone else. Everyone lowers their weapons as well, watching me with both fear and loathing. "We can kill each other after we survive this."

"Quite." He spits out, before marching past me. The green soldiers file behind him, giving me dirty looks before falling into their own formation. Meanwhile my natives keep watching, realizing just who their commander really was.

Forget the Risen. Knowing this place, they'll kill me themselves.

* * *

 ** _A/N: So that's knocked off. Next chapter is going to be the last installment of 'Master and Commander'. From that point on a new Xenologue will take it's place as a recurring storyline._**

 ** _Also, I've made a map to show off the current state of Valm. Better visualization for when I reference it later imgur code is_** ****

 _ **Review responses!**_

 _ **Dandaman5: I'm sorry to hear that, but it's coming soon. Very soon. I'm grateful for the patience, but rushing an arc isn't in the story's best interest. But it's an arc that will happen.**_

 _ **Marengo227: Sometimes this whole fic just feels like Severa getting oof'd. T'is fun.**_

 _ **That's all folks, see you next chapter**_

 _ **o/**_


	35. X-3: Master and Commander III

Thrust, twist, pull.

Repeat.

Thrust, twist, pull.

Repeat.

Thrust, twist, pull.

Repeat.

It was like clockwork to her. She'd gone through the paces so many times before.

It was seven years since Cordelia had truly been in a fight for her life. That lack of practice was showing for sure. Her muscles were already burning, with each movement stringing them apart further. It was her own fault she was even in this state, both her clerical and maternal duties had hurt her training regimen. She'd gone from a front-line soldier to a rear-line commander, after all.

But it wasn't like these Valentians cared much.

Another thrust sent her already crimson coated spear through the chest of yet another attacker, the blade easily ripping through his unarmored chest. A cry of pain escaped his lips as his sword fell from his grasp. She twisted the weapon, tearing apart what was left inside the cavity and finishing him off quickly.

Footsteps stomped behind her. Another tattered myrmidon was charging her position, his blade held high over his head. Cordelia pulled her blade free and whipped it around, spinning on her heels and sending the tip slicing into the side of his neck. All motion stopped, his the grip around his sword slackened as both arms fell to his side and he collapsed into a heap.

A third assailant came forward now, brandishing a spear of his own. His armor was falling apart, claw marks having raked from top to bottom in some inhuman assault. Still, it was strong enough to deflect her spear when she thrust it forth, the tip lodging itself in one of the rusted holes.

Cordelia ducked under his thrust and released her blade, rolling to his side and drawing out the tome that had been hanging on her waist belt. The book fluttered open, sparks raced along her fingertips, and the sound shattering blast of Arcthunder burst out from the palm of her hand.

The knight was dead before he even hit the ground, the poor man's body being boiled alive within the suit like hot water within a kettle. Grateful for the lull, the woman made her way to the corpse and pried her weapon free.

With the immediate danger dealt with, she once again became fully aware of the skirmish that raged around her. Mounted Pegasus Knights could be heard above, diving down through the canopy to skewer targets of opportunity. Soldiers and mercenaries rushed around her, spears hefted forward and blades above their head as they charged through the trees. The hooves of horses abused the root infested ground, shouts and cries mixing into a deafening chorus.

She almost didn't pick the important one out of the mob.

" **CORDELIA, BEHIND YOU!"** Stahl yelled in warning.

The woman spun on her heel, whipping her spear point before her again to see a myrmidon rushing her. Her assailant's blade already skyward, preparing to slash her from head to toe. Her eyes wild and feral before she claimed the kill.

She didn't hear the horse that tore in behind her. Nor did she notice the blade that slashed into the side of her skull as it came past.

As such, the Myrmidon's form twisted violently before falling to the ground, red spurting out like a malfunctioning fountain.

Cordelia gasped, eyes resting on the now dead hostile before looking to Stahl. Crimson seeped from his silver blade, the cavalier breathing a sigh of relief. "You OK?"

She nodded briskly wiping a few warm droplets of sanguine from her cheek. One look at her palm sent shudders down her spine, the hemophobia she had since recovered from rearing its ugly head.

"Yet again you save me an early demise." Cordelia admonished. The viridian paladin chortled, having his horse trot over to his friend.

"You had her dead to rights already, I just cleaned up." He said, deflecting the gratitude tossed his way. To Stahl what he did was nothing, something anyone would have done. It was just the way he went about things.

A group of Ylissean soldiers storm past them, regimental standard and Ylissean banner held high. Both of the soldiers watched on as they dive headlong into yet another pocket of Valentian resistance. The cry of 'For the Exalt!' runs alongside them, pushing all of their enemies aside just as they do.

"They're acting as if they're invincible." Cordelia commented, disappointment and annoyance plain as day. Her eyes narrowed as yet another Valentian was cut to the ground, two blue'd troops thrusting their spears into his torso before flinging him down.

"They're just showing off. Not every day you get to fight under the Queen's command." Stahl explained, his head turning about as flapping wings became audible behind the both of them. "Speaking of…"

A squadron of knights touched down, Sumia at the head of the formation. Her armor and weapons were unmarred, showing how she had not yet engaged in combat. Her guardians quickly fanned out, forming a wide circle around the three Shepherds. The head of the formation offered a salute to the both of them, before Cordelia returned it.

"Enjoying yourself, your highness?" Cordelia asked, leaning on her spear as the battle continued to rage on. As good a place to relax as any.

"I was hoping we could avoid the battle." Sumia admitted, wincing as she spied yet another person meet an early end at the business end of a spear. "Can't we try and get them to surrender or something?"

"Unlikely, milady. The Commander's reports here say the Imperials don't surrender easy." Cordelia informed, noting how worried her ward was becoming. The years of peace had left their mark, all of them were rather shaken by the newfound bloodshed.

Then, an idea came to her head.

"Stahl, could you take over here?" Cordelia asked the man.

"Huh?" The paladin asked, confounded. "I mean, sure but… why?"

She looked back up to Sumia, her highness mirroring Stahl's confusion as Cordelia pulled her spear from the earth. "Let's fly ahead and meet up with the Expedition. My Knights will be far more effective in the open than in this forest."

' _It'll also give me time to help clear her head.'_ Cordelia thought, not vocalizing the real reason behind her offer.

Sumia's expression remained strained, but she nodded along. A bit of air would do her some good, being stuck in this forest was going to drive her mad. Especially with all the ash and smog, it was like someone had lit a fire.

"Wonderful." Cordelia mused, before whistling to the sky. Not even a moment later, an unmounted white pegasus covered in golden armor descended, offering it's flank to let the woman up.

"Guess I'll hold the fort here, then." Stahl said, sheathing his blade and trotting closer to the center of the circle. "I'll keep everyone pushing up, we'll cross the river and set up a base-camp there when everything's secure."

"Be careful, Stahl. These Valentians are wiley." Cordelia warned, settling into Aurora's saddle comfortably. No more fighting on the ground, she promised herself. Just a minute's sprinting and she was already winded. Not that she was going to show it in front of others, that'd just look pathetic.

"You know me, I'm not gonna be a hero." He comforted, smiling at his two friends. "Either way, I'll get us organized. Happy flying!"

He rode away, dirt and grass kicking up as the horse went into a full sprint. Cordelia looked about, pointing to three of the knights.

"You all, find the other Troops and get them to rendezvous at the river basin." She commanded, the knights nominated launching themselves back into the air and being lost from sight above the foliage.

"Natalia." Cordelia continued, the Sergeant jumping a bit in her saddle as her name was called. "You, MacIntyre and Fairfield are coming with me to escort her Highness."

"Yes, Captain." The Falcon Knight hummed in agreement, positioning her steed in formation behind the other two.

"Dunno if it's smart only sending a squadron's worth to guard the Queen." The dark skinned knight asked, moving into position as well. Her sergeant shot a withering glare in her direction, but it seemed to have no effect at all.

"Two Pegasus Knights and two Falcon Knights. We should be fine." Fairfield replied, the spectacle clad woman clearly trying to convince herself more than the group.

Cordelia paid no mind, letting the two vent their grievances and worries without interjection. Her focus was mostly on Sumia, her friend's brown scrunched in deep thought while still looking out at the surrounding battlefield.

"Do you see something?" Cordelia asked in a low voice, leaning close. Sumia shook her head, tightening her grips around her reins. "I know that it's been a while since we've seen combat, but don't let your-"

"I can handle a normal fight, Cordelia." Sumia recalled, taking a deep breath. "But this whole situation doesn't seem normal at all."

Not willing to give more insight, she whipped her pegasus on and rose back towards the clouds. The other three followed suit, keeping tight around the royal for protection.

Cordelia held behind, thinking about that final phrase, before soaring above herself.

* * *

It didn't take them long to clear the battlefield. The sights and sounds fading away into the background as the group of women flew. Soon all that encompassed them was the natural serenity of the landscape, a contrasting peace considering things. There was a sizable gap still between their forces and the two engaging armies. Something Cordelia took note, seeing how out of position their attackers appeared to be compared to the rest of their comrades.

Just as they'd been told, the Valentians lacked any airborne units. With the thick treeline below them, no archer could get a clear shot on their formation. It would be a quick escort, and a quiet one.

Fairfield and MacIntyre were already pulled in the rear, the two friends enjoying a casual chat about what they planned to do while in country. Checking the capitol's boutiques, sampling wine, mingling with the locals; it was as if they were on holiday instead of entering a battlefront. Though it spoke to the confidence the recruits held over Ylisse's chances at victory.

Natalia zipped around the group, constantly surveying the area around them for even a blade of grass out of position. She moved so fast, Cordelia almost became dizzy trying to keep track of her location. The Sergeant was certainly diligent, but at the moment it came off as paranoid.

Comfortable that the situation would remain as it was, Cordelia let her mount slow in it's flight so she could float back to flank her Queen.

Sumia's expression remained pensive. It'd relaxed since they were ground-bound, but not by much.

"Don't think too hard. Might find a way to trip off the Pegasus." Cordelia joked, smiling in mirth.

"Oh shut up. I haven't tripped over anything in weeks." Sumia answered, not having any of it.

Cordelia wigged at the harsh response to the tease, not expecting her kindhearted friend to be so prickly. But she also wasn't going to take the lash standing.

"Alright, I'll bite. What's with you?" Cordelia demanded, keeping her displeasure barely in check. "You've been acting strange ever since we crossed north from Chon'sin. This morning you almost threw your wash pan at the attendant. The whole flight here Stahl thought you would burn a hole into the back of his head."

"He was eating like a pig the entire ride here." The royal complained.

"He's always eating, and it's never bothered you before." Her guard pointed out immediately. "And it isn't just him. You've snapped at half of our troops, scared off any merchant who's stumbled upon us. Even one of the Annas, and they're impossible to keep away from a sale."

Cordelia heard her friend mutter something about 'redheaded con-artists', not keen on continuing the conversation.

So she didn't press the topic further. Instead she breathed in and out, pondering the journey that had brought them both here. Not just here to Valm, but to this point of their lives.

They'd grown up together, young nobles in Ylisse's northern Duchy. Their families were closely linked, both having hailed from Macedonian refugees centuries prior. It was fate that they'd be friends, though their own accord they became close companions.

Ten years ago, the two of them were recruits in the most prestigious unit Ylisse possessed. Sumia was seen as the worst soldier in the whole group, Cordelia one of the best. Both of them had been hazed and tormented to hell and back by their peers, only finding shelter under the watchful eye of the Captain at the time.

Then they'd been separated. Cordelia sent to a border unit, Sumia to 'guard' Prince Chrom in his Shepherds. Though for the latter arrangement, it was more Sumia being guarded by the prince. In his company she was released from the torment and scorn of the other knights. Cordelia wasn't so lucky, she'd been given a _real_ posting. Which meant her hell would continue.

No, that wasn't quite right. It actually became far worse.

Her fort was one of the first to be annihilated by Plegia during their invasion. She was the only survivor, something that even now still haunted her. One of those events that could never be cleansed from her memory.

She fled to the Shepherds. She warned them of what was coming, and she joined their group under orders of her Captain.

It was there they reunited, it was there both of them made friends. More friends than either had ever came close to possessing before, people who cared for them and their well being. And even through the war, the blood, the death. Those moments of peace and family between it all were some of the happiest she ever held onto.

They also found love, of all things.

At that point in her life, Cordelia had given up on the idea of true love existing. She certainly never had never seen evidence of it. But Sumia found it, she still had it. Even after a decade the Exalt and the Queen's marriage was as strong as it had been the day of their wedding. And Cordelia… Cordelia found Robin. The man who gave her two beautiful girls, and years of joy.

From recruits to experts. Girls to women. Leaders, wives and mothers. One was a Queen, the other a Captain.

One was the Master, and the other was her Commander. That was their place in the world.

Though even if the monarch was her 'Master' now, she wasn't going to let her oldest friend wallow in such a dark hole.

"Sumia." Cordelia restarted, voice soft and understanding. The subject of her focus still didn't face her, but she kept speaking. "Come now, talk to me. I can tell something's wrong, but I don't know what."

Still nothing, just the wind blowing both of the women's long hair as they kept flying through the bonnet blue sky unfettered.

"Let me be here for you. Like I've always been." Cordelia asked. "Please."

Sumia pursed her lips, looking forwards. She then zipped her hand up, pointing before the two of them at figures off on the horizon. Cordelia turned to look herself, drawing out a spy glass as the flying formation careened to a halt.

Through her magnified vision, she was able to spy for flying six flying forms. At the rear were five griffons, dark brown feathers leaving a puff of plume behind them as they flew at an unnaturally fast speed. Their riders were low and close, faces hidden behind the mess of wings that the large birdlike creatures had.

At the front was a lone pegasus unmarred. Though judging from the speed of it's wing cycles, it was growing more and more fatigued. Atop the white animal was a rider with a thick mane of red. It fluttered like ribbons in the wind as she tried to escape from her pursuers.

As one of the griffons grew closer, their target twisted back and hefted a javelin. One throw sent the weapon back, sticking itself into the flying animal's neck and sending both it and it's partner spiraling down.

"I thought Morgan said Virion _had_ no trained fliers." Sumia commented worriedly.

"She did. But neither should the Valentians." Cordelia noted, continuing her survey. "Those griffons are flying erratically, far too fast as well. The pain from the strain on their wings would make them pass out..."

"It's them." Sumia affirmed softly, drawing her lance to the ready. The long, silver weapon shone brightly in the sunlight, ready to be used for the first time since it's forging. "We need to save her."

"Milady, with respect. She could be a Valentian-" Natalia began, only to be quickly silenced.

"I don't care! **No one** deserves to die by those things!" Sumia snapped back, not wanting to hear excuses for apathy. Natalia firmly silenced herself, both of her Troopers behind balking as their mild-mannered monarch rose her voice.

Just before leaving, Sumia looked to see if Cordelia was going to stop her as well. The Captain was already prepared to take pursuit of the feathered freaks, her own brave weapon ready as she bolted behind the Queen's trail.

Behind them both, the Sergeant was shouting orders to her subordinates to form up the rear. It was all they could do, their experienced leaders able to race ahead of them with ease.

Cordelia caught up with her partner, couching her lance as they got closer to their targets.

"So this is what's had you on edge!" Cordelia deducted, adjusting the tip of her spear so there was no chance of Aurora's neck being clipped by the impact. "You could have spoken to me about this!"

"I don't always need your help, Cordelia!" Sumia rattled back in annoyance, her own weapon still hoisted high

"Yes, you do!" Cordelia protested defiantly, not wanting to take anymore of this false bravado. "And I need yours, that's what this whole 'Friendship' thing's supposed to mean! Just because we aren't kids anymore, doesn't mean we can't help!"

"Do we have to talk about this now!?" Sumia asked, seeing that they were only a minute away from clashing. If that.

"No, but we have to talk about it after!" Cordelia spoke, laying down an ultimatum she intended to uphold. "Deal?"

"Deal!" Sumia agreed, now couching her own lance. "I've got the front one, you take the back!"

The redhead nodded, both fliers breaking off and lining up their targets and gaining a bit of altitude so they were just above the griffons. They were flying exactly perpendicular with the oncoming group, directly on a collision course. They were close enough now to confirm their suspicions. The molting feathers were more falling pieces of skin from the undead birds, along with coils of ash trailing behind them. The glowing eyes both they and their riders had were now strongly blazing against the blue sky backdrop, alien to the environment they were invading.

As they approached, Cordelia hugged the frame of her pegasus and directed her to fly at an angle, with an adjustment to her spear, she was set to skewer the rider without smashing into the griffon itself.

And that's just what they did.

Both Shepherds caught their targets easily, Sumia's being knocked off its mount and sent screeching down to earth. Cordelia's opponent remained hanging on the lance, the terror's undead body twitching as it clung to the device that was currently lodged deep into it's chest armor.

Sneering, Cordelia ordered Aurora to do a roll, gravity removing the refuse from her weapon.

Both women made a sharp u-turn in sync, redirecting their wrath to the two remaining hostiles. Taking the tail end of the chase, one on each side as they advanced onto their prey. All the while the rider they were trying to save finally took notice of her sudden saviors, pulling up and air-braking to let the others tear past.

The rear risen tried to lift it's weapon to swing at the belly of the escapee, but all he found was Cordelia's lance digging itself into his head. Meanwhile Sumia sent her own spear down, lopping off the griffon's wing and causing both to lose complete control.

The last risen turned to spot them both, it's head sickeningly twisting back without turning it's body at all. As Cordelia approached, it took a mad hack with it's axe to try and remove her head. Instead the Paragon dove low, stealing the other Risen's move and skewering the beast's stomach. Sumia slashed her spear across the rider's chest, twice, then shoved her royal boot into the side of his skull.

They couldn't even fall, evaporating into ash and dust then and there.

Satisfied with their work, the ladies circled close and looked back at their rescue. She was already descending down to the hill below them, Natalia and company zipping behind to land with her.

The two shared a look, Sumia smiling and raising her hand to offer a high-five. Cordelia happily met her halfway, before both flew down to see just who they'd saved from an early grave.

* * *

By the time they got to the others, sparks were already flying. Both Shepherd women descended and dismounted, ears then assaulted by the argument.

MacIntyre and Fairfield watched on from the sidelines, both clutching their spears protectively as their Sergeant and this stranger hurled worlds at one another with reckless abandon. One couldn't even properly tell what was being spoken between the two, with how angered they both seemed to be. It was like trying to make sense of a rabid wyvern, and only one person on this continent seemed to speak _wyvern._

Cordelia glanced at the two young women as the watched, both of them shooting her a look that begged for her to intervene. Sumia did the same, all gusto she had before and during combat having left her now that she relaxed.

Sighing, Cordelia brought her fingers to her mouth and whistled, much like she would if calling for Aurora.

Both women turned to look at her, glaring bloody murder. Natalia's gaze broke when she saw who it was, but the other woman kept the indignant and distrusting gaze.

As Natalia stepped out of the way, Cordelia fell silent. Sumia gasped, hand shooting to her mouth.

The red rider was young. A teenager's, build, weight. Red hair, red eyes, sharp features. She was a bronze Valmese breastplate. A winged headband clung to her scalp, white contrasting against the crimson. Lacquer shoulder spaulders were strapped to her arms, and beneath it all was a blazing red myrmidon tunic.

She looked like a younger Cordelia, physically.

But the glare… the glare looked just like Severa's. Piercing and steadfast, digging straight past your heart and into your soul. Unrelenting, unapologetic and defiant.

Cordelia was both horrified and drawn in all at once.

"Who are you…?" The Captain asked, out of breath.

"That's what I've been _trying_ to find out!" Natalia spoke, jabbing towards the mystery woman with her healing stave. "But she refuses to even let me get a word in!"

"That's because I keep telling you to heal Hinoka, she's about to pass out!" The doppelganger answered, pointing towards her own white mount. It's head hung low and stiff, looking liable to fall onto her side from exhaustion at any moment.

As Cordelia remained frozen in confusion, Sumia quickly took control of the situation. She stepped forward, mounting her most Exalted voice before speaking her directives.

"Sergeant, look after her mount. We'll question her, she seems to be in good enough health." The Queen commanded. Disgruntled, the non-commissioned officer bowed before taking to her given task. Sumia turned around, looking to the two Troopers that were still petrified. Upon seeing that they were the new focus, both women snapped to attention.

Smirking at their nervousness, she kept speaking in a soft voice. "Girls, set up a perimeter. We'll be leaving soon, but I'd like to avoid unwanted company."

"Y-yes, your Majesty!" MacIntyre said, both soldiers scurrying off to do just that. Sumia chuckled as the two girls mounted up once more, taking to the sky again to hover above the hill.

Then she turned back, eyes fixating on their guest while she took her position back next to her best friend's flank.

"She looks just like you Cordelia." Sumia mused playfully, noticing their company's glare begin to fade away at the mention of the Captain's name. Cordelia herself remained silent, watching with analytical intent.

"So." Sumia began, clasping her hands together and holding them at her waist. "Tell us, what's your name young one?"

The subject looked to Cordelia again, two pieces clicking together in her mind before looking back to Sumia's eyes. "...Caeldori. Caeldori Takeda." She informed.

"Caeldori. What a lovely name." Sumia spoke sweetly, as if she was speaking to her own daughters back in Ylisstol. "Tell me, Caeldori. What are you doing out here all alone? This is a warzone, and by the looks of things a third party's come along too."

"I'm… I'm a messanger." She explained. "My group, we were guarding the south-western flank of camp. Then these…" Caeldori paused, clearly trying to find the word for her attackers. "Risen. Right, Risen. They ambushed us."

"South-west." Sumia hummed, thinking the information over. "That isn't a direction the Valentians would be guarding from. So is it safe to assume you're with the Duchy?"

Caeldori bobbed her head, nervously rubbing her arm as the conversation continued on. "Yes. Our Battalion was kept in reserve while the main forced went to meet the Valentian force for the main battle."

"Sounds like Morgan, she's covering all her bases." Sumia recalled under her breath, trying to assure her friend that her daughter was still safe. Though she wasn't rewarded with a response.

Not to her, anyway.

"Who are you, exactly?" Cordelia finally spoke, honing on her miniature with distrust.

"A mercenary." Caeldori explained, not truly lying but revealing all the facts either. "The Duke commissioned me as a training officer, now I'm an adjutant with an infantry battalion."

"Ah, so you're a… Lieutenant?" Sumia fished.

"Captain." Caeldori corrected.

"Hm, explains why we've never seen her before. Still an amazing coincidence, right?" Sumia hummed knowingly, finding a small comedy from the absurd circumstances.

"Quite." Cordelia answered sharply, letting the word die in the air with no follow up.

As the awkward silence returned, Natalia trudged back with her healing stave in tight grasp. She shot yet another displeased look at Caeldori, but this one seemed to lack the previous energy.

"I've treated her mount. She's still fatigued but she can fly at a normal pace." Natalia informed the trio.

"Lovely, Sergeant. Thank you." Sumia said, and Natalia once again bowed at the hip for her Queen.

"...I've told you who I am. What about you?" Caeldori questioned, melting away under Cordelia's continued watch.

That question seemed to refuel what energy Natalia lost. The noble Sergeant spun back to look to Caeldori, not believing what she had just heard.

Sumia giggled at the showing, knowing how traditional their former student was. "Go ahead, Nat. Introduce us. It's hard for me to keep track of all the styles and titles they gave me."

"Gladly." Natalia spoke, standing straight to the left side of both Shepherds. She took a firm, military posture. Back unbent and feet pressed together, arms at the side and her stave's rod pressed into the earth like a spear's shaft.

"Presenting her most Exalted Majesty, by the grace of Naga and the Divines, Queen of Ylisse and her Vassals, Matriarch of the Order of Pegasus Knights, Knight Falicorn and Slayer of the Fell Dragon, Sumia Lowell née Abercromby."

Somehow, the Sergeant managed to say that all at once without taking a breath. All while her liege giggled at the whole affair like a schoolgirl. Unperturbed, Natalia kept going. Because _someone_ here had to keep some sense of noble dignity.

"Joined by the Viscountess Medon, Knight-Captain and Commander of the Order of Pegasus Knights, Knight Falicorn and Slayer of the Fell Dragon, Cordelia Volkner of Friga."

Finished, Natalia took in a long breath, clearly winded after blathering all of that. Having been allowed to keep some semblance of honor amongst her mentors, she returned to her own mount. All the while Caeldori's mouth widened.

"You're… you're the Queen of Ylisse." Caeldori repeated, if only to assure herself she wasn't imagining things. "You're the woman who sent Au-... Commander Morgan here."

"Technically my husband did, but I had a hand in it." Sumia admitted.

"She didn't tell us we'd be receiving reinforcements." Caeldori said, now smiling happily as she found what would be her mother and father's salvation. "This is great! You can bring your men and come with me!"

"The army isn't with us." Cordelia informed drolly, deflating Caeldori's enthusiasm. "We were flying ahead to meet up with your employer."

"Well, our camp's about to be overrun!" Caeldori declared, pointing in the direction where she came from. "I've been traveling for an hour so I could try and get help before my unit's wiped out!"

"Wiped out?" Cordelia repeated, suddenly gaining a strong interest as she took a step forward. "How are you about to be wiped out? Exactly how many Risen ambushed your group?"

"Too many, far too many to fight." Caeldori kept pressing, retracting her arm and gulping audibly. "My Major sent me to get anyone to come relieve them before it's too late."

"But if we divert our forces, then the plan we made with the Commander's going to fall apart. A lot of people could die." Sumia pointed out, not liking the sudden change.

"If my people don't get assistance, they're _certainly_ going to die!" Caeldori protested in frustration. "Isn't there something you can do!?"

Sumia stewed in place, trying to think of a solution. This wasn't what she expected, nor was it something she needed. Military strategy wasn't her strong-suit as is, thinking on the fly for a crisis out of nowhere was completely out of her league.

Thankfully, the career officer between both of them was actually present.

"Yes, there is." Cordelia said, turning about and calling to the Sergeant. "Natalia!"

"Captain?" Her soldier answered back.

"Take your girls, fly to the rendezvous!" She ordered. "Gather the full Company! Then fly towards the place where the Roseanean camp is supposed to be, you know where!"

"Then what, Captain!?" Natalia questioned, confused at these new orders.

"Fly towards any large columns of smoke! If you see Risen, attack them until you reach the camp! Understood?"

"Understood! I'll inform Lieutenant Windsor!" Natalia called back in finality, before kicking off into the sky to regroup with her two squadron members. The three girls hovered in the air for a few moments, before they tore off northbound.

Cordelia then turned back to Caeldori, walking over and crouching down so they were at head level with one another. For the first time in the whole engagement, she cracked a smile. Something deep down kept telling her this was a girl she should show her smile.

"I want you to take us to your unit. We'll support them while reinforcements come." Cordelia told the girl.

Caeldori balked, standing up to see Sumia already mounting Belfire and getting the pegasus ready to take off. "A-Are you… sure? There's a lot, I don't know if it's safe for a Queen and her bodyguard."

"Trust me, little one." Cordelia comforted, placing both her hands softly around Caeldori's shoulders. "That Queen and I have fought Risen since you could only reach my knee. We're not afraid, and we _will_ help your friends."

A few tears seemed to prick at the teenagers eyes. Without warning she jumped forward, wrapping her arms tight around Cordelia's neck. Her small form shook with the fear and terror she'd been keeping bottled up since she'd abandoned her mother in that sea of the dead. Only to be saved by someone who, dare she believed, was one of the few people her mother seemed to admire.

Cordelia chuckled softly, returning the hug with warmth and understanding. She didn't want anyone else to suffer the same fate she had years ago, especially this girl. This… strange girl who she felt drawn to hold.

It felt like she was holding her daughter all over again.

"It's OK. We'll protect you." She promised as she felt Caeldori dig her face deeper into the hug.

"I'll protect you." She amended, holding there for some precious moments longer.

* * *

 _ **A/N: One hundred favorites, almost 40K views, and reaching 200K words. Lotta milestones all at once.**_

 _ **Coming up next, what you've all been waiting for.**_

 _ **o/**_


	36. C-28: Homecoming

There's an old legend kids in Ylisse are raised by. The tale of the Black Knight, Camus of Grust.

Story was that he lead a military order called the Sable Knights. Through all of Archanea he was known to be the greatest warrior to ever live. But that wasn't what made him a legend.

What made him a legend, was who he was. Incorruptible, uncompromising, honorable, righteous. To him, the duty of a knight was to be the best person you can be. Helping people, protecting people, being loyal to the nation you call home no matter what the situation. Even if you had to make a hard choice and fight against people you didn't want to.

He lived by that code. Which ended up getting him killed, fighting people he should've been helping. And everybody still lauds him as some kind of glorious hero.

If that's where the legend ended, I'd honestly hate his guts. But there were… rumors.

When Medus came back, a man named Sirius surfaced. He always wore a mask, but the way he acted and fought mirrored Camus. It's said that he came back to fix what he'd helped break. Save some friends, try to save another one who was beyond help. And then when it was all done, he disappeared. Like he never even existed.

Someone who failed their home, fled, then returned to make things right again.

I want you to ask you something. Whoever it is who hears this story. Whether you've believed a word out of my mouth or not, I don't really care. There's one thing that's been the center of all my problems my whole life. It's something I think everyone who'll ever pick up a sword needs to think about.

What the hell is the point of dying honorably?

Death is a load of crap. It's the end, there's nothing left after that. You can't do anything else, can help anyone else, can't go anywhere else. You get your arse carted off to whatever afterlife there is. If there even is one.

Then there's the people you leave behind. There's no comfort in 'dying honorably' to your husband or your kids. Sure, they'll tell themselves the same schlock so they feel better. But they're still there, alone. The hole you left isn't ever gonna be filled.

Sometimes it's inevitable. Sometimes you need to be willing to let everything go, and accept the consequences later. My family's done that more times than any should. And even if I hate it, even if I still hate my parents for leaving _me_ , I understand that now.

But I don't want to die well. I wanna _live_ well.

When I finally put all of my weapons away for good, I don't want to suddenly stop helping people. I want to do it in a different way, so they can keep living their lives. You make more of an impact the longer you're around to make one.

...If there's any message you take from this whole thing, let that be it.

We always talk about dying for something. No one seems to care about living for it.

* * *

But enough of the philosophical nonsense. Let's head back to the fight, about an hour after I sent my daughter flying off. Gerome, Cynthia and I managed to regroup. All of our surviving troops, plus the Valentians who stuck around, were connected by a string a depressions that were riddled across the field. They worked well enough for ad-hoc trenches, and were a good place to make the risen trip over themselves as they charged.

We're holding on. I don't think we've lost too many people. Plus with Subaki having come back, our numbers got a bit larger. He's riding around the battle with his horsemen, picking off stragglers and blunting attacks.

But that's where the good news ends.

Everyone's hurt. Some people have a few scratches and scrapes, other people have holes in their guts and arms chopped off. I can't send anyone for the healers because I need every able fighter here, _fighting_. Between me, Cynthia and the handful of clerics that the Valentians had, we can't save everyone.

There's still pockets of people lost in all the chaos. Once in a while they manage to stumble back to the line, clutching a wound or carrying someone. But the longer this goes on the more folks're gonna die out there, separated from this little bastion we've formed.

Add to the fact that we're getting worn down. Less and less people are still able to fight. Every time I send a group out strike somewhere, they come back with one less person walking. Sometimes they're not there period.

And then there's Gwen. She's been missing this whole time. One of her soldiers said they saw her trying to organize a flank but… that was ages ago, and she hasn't reported back.

I'm running out of time. Where's Caeldori, where's _anyone!?_

"Another squad's coming!" I hear someone yell, and my eyes tear up from the map I'm reading to see who's made their way back to us.

Five people. Three spearmen, a mercenary and an archer. The archer's got his bow drawn, walking backwards and watching the rear while the spearmen drag the mercenary's bleeding carcass towards us. Lavender blurs as the line breaks, letting them meld through without resistance before hardening back up behind them. Cynthia's already on their trail, standing up from her current patient and hoofing it to see what she can do with this new one.

Above, I see Minerva descending to the far rear, clear of anyone to avoid squashing them into the pavement. Gerome hops off, brushing his weapon clean of soot and handing a scroll to a runner.

He's still got that stony, stupid face when I come over. A normal person'd emote a little, but not him. No, he's gotta be all _cool_ and _mysterious_. Jerk.

"What did you see up there?" I ask him hurriedly, wanting to come up with a new set of orders to hand out as soon as possible.

"The hordes are wandering still. They seem unknowledgeable as to our exact location." Gerome droned, mounting the axe back into Minerva's saddle. "They've split into sub-groups. Each one varies in size."

"If this was the old days, they'd have hunted us down by now." I observe.

"In the old days, they had Grima's guidance. These Risen seem to be stumbling blind." Gerome parses. "If we are smart, we may be able to hold until after the main battle is finished. Then my… _parents…_ " He still has trouble calling them that, good grief. "-will be able to send us more men."

I shake my head in disagreement. "That's assuming we survive that long, remember these people haven't fought risen as much as we have. They don't have the stamina or the skill."

"Indeed. If this was our old party, we could dispatch them easily." He analyses, eyeing the defensive line.

"No kidding." I agree with a prideful huff. "If we weren't trying to cover for all of these newbies, we'd be on our way home already."

' _Or maybe if you focused less on healing and more on fighting.'_ The voice berates, constantly ringing about in my mind.

' _No one asked you, Ice Queen.'_ I tell it.

' _Pff, please. You're the Ice Queen. I'm the Ice Empress.'_

"...Severa? Are you well?" Gerome asks me, a rare drop of concern breaking free from his constant monotone. The world comes back as I can feel my hand clutching the side of my head, face caught in a wince from the pain. Damn these headaches, every time I try to shake her influence off this happens.

"Fine, fine. Just rattled." I dismiss. He won't but it, Gerome knows me too well, but I know he won't pry either.

A bunch of footsteps drum up to our side, both of us look to see Cynthia stumble into a stop next to us. The flighty flyer makes a 'Oop!' sound as she trips forward. Would've made a faceplant if her husband and I didn't grab her by each arm.

"So, what're we talking about?" She asks us, beaming at us both with a big-toothed grin. I can tell that she's tired, using a stave to try and put people back together's drained a lot out of her aura. But she's a lot like Morgan, in the sense that it's near impossible to make Cynthia upset. No wonder those two were always attached at the hip growing up.

"Talking about our next move." I lie. Not that I don't want to talk to her, we haven't had much of a chance to do that yet, but we're also in a fight for our lives. "I'm going to break off a few infantry platoons, send them along the treeline to try and find anyone left. Mind having some of your archers come with?"

Cynthia hops up to her feet, puffing her chest out and saluting grandly as she tries to put on a serious facade. "Yes ma'am! Captain Cynthia's on the case!"

Oh Gawds, she's actually Captain Cynthia now. It's not just her playing pretend hero.

"Wonderful." I tell her, trying to not let my annoyance drip out.

She turns to leave, then spins back around just as fast. Making _me_ dizzy for crying out loud.

"I almost forgot!" She exclaims. "One of the people who just came back, they said they saw a bunch of our guys moving by the pond west of us!"

"That's almost twenty minutes away." Gerome mentions as I pull my map back out, placing his finger on the pond in question. Cynthia also leans in way, way too close for comfort. She's making our should armor rub, and it's making that weird screeching sound that makes your skin have goosebumps.

It's a distance alright, and in the middle of another forest. Which means anyone near there's begging to get surprised.

"Way too fa- hey, hey! Personal space!" I order, nudging her away before moving the map so they can all see. "Gawds. It's way too far to send people on foot. They'd just get swamped and overrun."

"We could send some of Subaki's horsemen." Gerome offers. "He should return with one of his Troops."

I shake my head. "We need them to keep distracting the blobs so they don't group up and pile onto us at once."

"Well… why don't we go?" Cynthia asks me as I roll up the map again, putting it into my belt. "We can fly over there in five minutes tops!"

"My stupid pegasus abandoned me, remember? I'm grounded." I remind her with no small amount of bitterness. Still can't believe that dumb horse abandoned me here. Should've known he'd cut and run the moment we'd be out of camp, he's probably flown all the way back to his old rider. With a fresh set of horse armor, a saddle full of supplies, my tome _and_ my stave.

It hurt. Felt like I'd been stabbed in the back. Dunno why I trusted him, but I did. Now I'm here spinning without a line.

"I don't want to go without Subaki either." I tell them both. "Once he's back, and he agrees, we'll go together. I'll… ride on Minerva I guess."

"The last time you rode on her, you emptied your stomach on her back." Gerome recalls. Fearfully, if I'm not mistaking his inflection.

"The last time I rode on her, we were _eight_ and you didn't know what you were doing!" I shoot back. "I nearly got whiplash with how terrible you were controlling this over bloated goat eater!"

Minvera roars as I mention her, clearly not liking that she's being spoken poorly about. Cynthia and I cover our ears, and I can see a few other soldiers jump in panic. Gerome doesn't move an inch, looking over his shoulder and saying something I can't hear.

He frowns as we drop our hands.

"Apologize." He demands. I roll my eyes in response, but do as he asks.

"Fine, I'm sorry that I mentioned how much you used to suck at flying." I jab at him, smirking. Cynthia giggles lightly, well aware of just how bad he used to be. She was the one who helped him get over his fear of heights to begin with.

His frown grows, not having it. "I meant, to Minvera." He corrects, the old wyvern's head lifting and staring at me. The thing actually looks insulted, how sensitive are these animals!?

"I'm not apologizing for saying the truth!" I protest, throwing my hands up in defiance.

"Then you ride with Cynthia on Wolt." He declares, turning around to return to his prima-donna partner.

"Well FINE! I like Wolt more than your flying lizard anyway!" I call at him, not that he reacts to it. Naga's sake, I hope the original Minerva wasn't this much of a drama queen.

"Actually…" Cynthia starts, and I groan before she even finishes. "Wolt's still too young to carry you and me at once." She tells me, laughing nervously as she presses two fingers together. "Sorry…"

"You're both useless." I say, palming my face in frustration.

Gods, I wish Camus was here.

* * *

"Not what I would call a romantic ride through the countryside." Subaki chimes as I cling to his back, both of us sharing a seat on the back of his old spotted horse. For a horse that was almost too old to fight, he was handling both of us at a pretty quick pace without much effort.

Cynthia and Gerome were both above us, keeping pace with us instead of tearing ahead. Meanwhile we were riding over this uneven field at a decent speed, but still slower than I'd appreciate.

"You'll make it up to me when we go to that hot spring." I remind him, adjusting my arms so they're further away from his ribs. "I'm expecting you to spoil me _rotten_ after this, got it?"

"Yes, dear. It'll be a vacation to remember." Subaki promised. "We'll make it a second honeymoon."

"We had a first one?" I ask. "All I remember is that shotgun wedding in Valla. After that we were too busy _not dying._ "

'Shotgun' wedding doesn't really do it justice. Sakura, Elise and Corrin pulled out all the stops in the deeprealm castle we holed up in. Everyone always showed up to the weddings, ours was no exception.

It was a Hoshidan ceremony, so Sakura oversaw it. She'd taken over a corner of the grounds and turned it into a shrine, the Hoshidans used it for prayer and ceremonies. When our day came, we went there. Pews were dragged out, extra food was made, huge party afterwards. Then we had the night to ourselves. A little peace before going out to meet the Vallites again. Felt weird getting married under the rites of a dragon I didn't worship. The Dawn and Dusk dragons still confuse me now. But I don't think Naga minds much, she knows I'm still in her corner.

Heh. Actually… thinking back, all three of our weddings were pretty nuts. When Owain got hitched, he made such a big scene of it. His wife had to shut him down, though. I was surprised _she_ was as religious as she was, considering her job. Inigo's especially weird, seeing him dance like he did during the reception. It really seemed like the happiest I ever saw the man.

"I never thanked her for doing that for us." I mumble into his shoulder, remembering the Princess' cheery face as we approached the altar. Sakura tended to be extremely reserved, but those weddings were one of the times she really expressed herself.

"She didn't want thanks. Lady Sakura was just glad to be there for a friend." He assures.

"Still. Feels like I don't know anything about Hoshido still. Caeldori knows plenty, but me… all I know are the words. And barely even that." I lament, growing self-conscious about being the odd one out between us three.

"You had your own customs, plus the Nohrian ones you adopted. Taking on a third culture wasn't something I expected of you."

"Maybe. But it's something that you can only share with Caeldori now." I press. "I want to be part of that too, y'know!"

"But you already seem to know plenty about our style of dress."

"Well, yeah. But that's fashion, I latch onto that stuff quick." I think for a moment, before bringing another thing up. "When we get leave, I'm making you a new outfit."

"Excuse me?"

"We'll call it my first commission." I tease, poking at his gut lightly. "You need some formal wear anyway! I'll have you looking like the noble you are."

"Lovely…" He says, dread hanging on every word. I can't help but giggle softly, resting my head against his back. Even if we're fighting for our lives, I may as well enjoy myself a little.

Business comes back up soon anyway.

We get to the pond, and floating in the center are the bodies of the soldiers we came here to find. Red's seeped into the water, reaching out around like thousands of small tentacles. Some of them are facing up, I can make out the bare features of their faces.

"Damn it." I curse, hopping off the horse and running to the water's edge. My eyes squint as I try to tell who it is, but they're too far away and my spyglass was one of the things in my satchel.

"I cannot tell who it is… but they are wearing our uniforms for certain." Subaki asks from behind me, checking with his own optics. He's frowning, not liking the situation anymore than I do. "This… seems odd though."

"You mean that their corpses are out there instead of on dry land? Yeah, odd's one way to describe it." I comment, turning my head up to see Cynthia fly down near the bodies. Gerome's still hovering above, circling on his overgrown lizard like it's an overgrown buzzard.

Cynthia stops just above the corpses, looking down as she tries to check them out. Maybe to figure out how they died.

Then I see her randomly fly back up, before diving headfirst into the forest.

Followed by a loud, very not alive roar.

Immediately, a group of my favorite zombies shamble out of the woods. Gerome ducks in after her, Minerva screeching back in response. Whole trees get blasted aside as the massive black animal steamrolls itself through the woodland with not a damn given.

But, there's more. And they're coming towards Subaki and me.

Why do they _always_ aim for me?

My weapon's already out, and I start making a crazy run to meet them halfway. Subaki rushes past me, thanks to his horse. There's about ten of them this time, blobbed together in a loose group as they run at me with axes and swords above their heads.

Subaki slams into them, knocking more than a few airborne and catching two on the end of his naginata. He doesn't stop, either. Rides through like nothing happens before he spins back around. All of their focus turns towards him, giving me a great opening.

I pull my dagger from my belt, flip it so my fingertips hold the blade, line up a shot, then chuck it forwards. It lands, slicing into the back of a mage's head and sticking there as it falls to it's knees.

The merc who was standing next to his re-dead friend turns. I swear I hear him say 'huh', right as I lop his head off.

Step to the mage, rip my dagger out from his head, then go deep into the pack. Basically turn into a human tornado as I spin and slash my way through each of them.

Dual wielding was a trick I picked up from Beruka, and it works well. When I'm in a mob like this, I can use both my hands to attack. Whenever I'm in a duel, I can use the dagger to parry while my sword handles offense. Keeps me mobile, and flexible.

But it's also… tiring. And easy to screw up.

One of the Risen catches me on the back-foot, lashing out with their sword and making me stumble.

Unlike me, these things don't _get_ tired.

So he just keeps slashing me again, and again, and again. Soon his remaining friends join in on the fun, and suddenly I'm being forced to block strikes from four different jerks at once.

Until Subaki comes back. I hear his horse whinny at them _so_ menacingly as he slashes his spear through them all. Each of them falls over into a heap, not moving anymore and without their noggins attached to their necks anymore.

I double over, the ash from their bodies filling my lungs as I hack and heave for some air. I don't even hear Subaki come back, my ears ringing from the coughing.

He hands me his canteen, and I snatched it. Half of the water goes down my gullet before I hand it back, but Gods it still burns. Both his hands grip me as he helps me up to my feet, and I can feel my lungs stop trying to kill themselves as the last of the ash leaves my chest.

"Selena? Are you hurt?" He asks me.

I shake my head, shrugging him off. "I'm… I'm fine. Just winded." I say, putting my smaller weapon back into my belt. "We need to follow Gerome, there's got to be more risen here."

He hesitates a moment, but nods. We both go back to his horse, then ride off to try and find our friends.

* * *

Gerome should think about being a lumberjack. Minerva can clear trees out really well.

We follow the wyvern-sized hole in the forest, hopping over knocked over trees and crushed trunks. Large footsteps line the center of all the destruction, leaving a clear path of where they went. More than a few splinters end up in my hair, which annoys me. I already have to brush this stuff after every fight, now it's gonna take me longer because of his pet's rampage.

My brain's thinking back to the pond.

The corpses in the water were one question. The other was why the hell were they out here to begin with? I never sent groups this way. There was nothing here for us to do, and it would've spread the line far too thin. On top of that, these risen were waiting for us. Getting caught away from the group is one thing, being _ambushed_ is another.

Risen don't plan. Their brains have all been rotted out, so they can't think much beyond attacking. They need someone to do their thinking for them. It used to be Grima, in this timeline some of the Grimleal did. But everyone who should be able to control risen is either not here or dead.

Cherche's warning about a third party comes back to mind, and I feel a pit in my stomach.

A pit I'm forced to ignore as Minerva's screech flushes through the forest.

We ride up to see her on the ground, a bunch of risen climbing themselves up along her wings. Gerome's on her back, hacking away at them with his axe as best as he can. Cynthia's there too, spearing them off like she's going fishing.

"Get us over there!" I order, pointing my sword at them.

"That's the idea!" Subaki tells me, the horse picking up speed.

We close in on them as quick as we can. Subaki gets ready to ride down the few still surrounding Minerva, while I prep myself to help the others. As he makes contact with the outside ring of risen, I jump off and tackle one of them to the ground.

The mountless pegasus knight writhes under my weight, pinned to the ground. As I shove my rapier into her spine and rip her in half, one of their friends hobbles their way over to me, only to be intercepted by the business end of Cynthia's lance. Another advances behind it, lunging with it's axe in a jumping strike.

I roll to the side, letting it catch nothing but dirt. Then I kick the fighter's legs out from under him, then give him the same end as the last risen. Around me the world grows quiet as the fight ends as quickly as it started for me. Get back on my feet, look around just to be sure we're in the clear.

Gerome and Cynthia both slide down from Minerva's back, and I see Cynthia's pegasus limp out from behind a tree.

"What happened to Wolt?" I ask, not seeing any injuries.

"He hit his wing on a branch." Cynthia croons fearfully, like the damn thing's her kid. "He's fine! Just… needs a break. I've got enough charges left in my stave to fix the bruise."

"I'll help him." Subaki promises, looking at the injured colt. "May I borrow your stave?"

Cynthia nods gratefully, handing the healing implement to my husband. As he walks over so he can get to work, Gerome moves back over to Minerva. Probably to check if she took any hits herself.

Which leaves me and Cynthia together, somewhat alone.

Good, I need to tear her a new one for this. I march over, and jab my finger right into the center of her chest. She makes a small 'Eep!', pigtails wilting away as I prepare to give her the railing of a lifetime.

"What in the **hell** were you thinking!?" I shout, pushing her back an inch. "Flying off like that, half cocked! You could've gotten yourself killed! Or worse, you could've gotten ME killed!"

"S-" She starts, but I'm not done.

"I don't care if you're sorry! That was dumb! Even for you!" I keep ripping in, wanting to get my anger and frustration across. "We aren't kids anymore, you idiot! You can't keep diving into these fights head first like some sort of kamikaze!"

"I was-"

" **I'M NOT DONE!"** I rage at her, not losing any of my momentum. "After all the lame brained, feather-headed, irresponsible, reckless crap I've seen you do, I would've thought that maybe. Just MAYBE, after you grew up a bit, you'd stop! But no, you still stick your neck out like it's nothing!"

"I-I'm s-sorry…" She manages to say. Her voice is cracking, she's bordering on tears now. Oh my Gawds, come on. How is it she's in her twenties and she can't being yelled at still!?

Ugh… ok… breathe in… breathe out.

"...Do you want your son to grow up like we did?" I ask, finally getting to the point. She immediately shakes her head so fast, I think it's going to fly off. "Then don't be reckless. We both have too much to lose now."

"I-I w-won't…" She promises, eyes downcast and voice shaking.

I sigh, put both my hands on her shoulders, and shake her once. Her head pops up to match mine again, and she's watering up like a raincloud.

I soften up my tone and drop the hardarse act. "Cincy, I already saw you almost die once. If it happened again, I…" I'm at a loss for words, the picture of her and Gerome's near dead bodies appearing for me like it was yesterday.

"...I don't know what I'd do. I couldn't handle it again." I admit. "So please, be careful. For our sake."

She sniffs, but nods. I can see her smile at me, and I pull her in for a quick hug. She meets me for it, our arms wrapping around each other before breaking off.

"...So. Why _did_ you rush in here?" I ask her, curious.

"I… um… I saw someone." She tells me, which makes me even more curious. "Someone tall, with a hood. He didn't look like risen."

"You're telling me there's someone else out here?" I ask her.

Before she can respond, another loud shriek fills the air. Above us, the sun gets blocked by a large silhouette for a split second.

Gerome already hops into action, getting back in the saddle. Subaki runs over to him, both of them trading words before _both_ of our husbands take off skywards on Minerva.

Cynthia and I run over to the spot where the wyvern was resting before. "Hey! Where are you two going!?" I yell up at the sky in vain, both of them well out of earshot. Not even a minute later, I can see fire get blasted across the sky as Minerva enages some kind of beast.

"Great." I huff, throwing my hands up in frustration. "What the hell was that for!?"

"It might be the risen wyverns from before. Gerome and I only got two of them." Cynthia tells me.

"Oh well that's just peaches." I drone sarcastically, looking back over to Wolt. The pegasus is still standing there, Cynthia's stave having been returned to his care. As he trots over to us, his limp's still present, but it's not as pronounced. Which hopefully means he'll be able to move soon.

Cynthia runs her hands across his snout, giving him a pat. "Aww, doncha worry Wolt! We'll be back up in the sky real soon!"

"Least you _have_ a pegasus." I hiss, not hiding my jealousy at all.

"Yep, and he's the best pegasus there is! Better than yours, that's for sure."

"Hey, don't talk badly about Camus!" I protest, the princess responding by sticking her tongue out at me. Hrm… he better come back. It feels weird being stuck on the ground in armor like this, it's not easy to fight in as infantry. Probably why I'm getting so tired so fast.

Right, right. Back to what she told me before.

"So you're sure you saw someone in a hood? And he wasn't wearing any uniform, or colors or anything?"

"Nope. Just a robe and a hood. Looked kinda creepy, too."

"Creepy people in hoods. That… usually doesn't bode well for us."

"Huh? Whaddya mean?"

"Remember the people we _usually_ run into who fit that description?"

"Um…" She thinks for a bit, then hops as she remembers the answer. "Oh, right! Those icky Grima people!"

"Yeah. Them."

"But… why would they be here?" She asks. "I thought they were all wiped out with Grima."

"I'm not saying it _is_ them, you dolt." I shoot back harshly. "I'm just saying… based on past events, we should be a bit more careful."

"But if we find him, we'll find out why he's here!"

"Or we'll get kidnapped, and tortured, and brainwashed into Grima worshipers." I list off. Because knowing those freaks, even after we killed their 'god', they're still going to try again. These people never know when to quit while they're… well, I dunno if ahead is what I would call it.

As we hear the beasts above us screech again, we share a look. Staying down here is just us being useless while our husbands try and protect us. It's honestly kind of pathetic.

Then the wyverns cry again… further away.

Then further.

Until I can't even make it out much anymore.

And then the ground starts to shake.

Wolt gets spooked instantly. His wing's still busted, so the young pegasus runs off as fast as his legs can carry him. Bishamonten holds his ground, stamping his hooves in place defiance to… whatever the hell is making all this racket.

Cynthia and I fall over in a second, me landing on my side and her on her big booty. Each of my teeth rattles in my mouth, liable to fall out from the shaking. I can't get myself back up either, the earth's too unstable.

The tremors get closer, and closer, and closer. Right underneath us.

Then a large, clawed hand punches it's way through the ground. Dirt, grass, mulch, everything flies into the sky from the rupture. The hand wraps itself right around Bishamonten, the stomping stallion letting out one last war-cry.

It clenches into a fist.

There's an explosion of crimson as the poor animal gets turned into mist, then dragged down into the crater.

Then like that, it's gone. All sound disappears, except for the red splatter surrounding the crater.

I'm… gonna be sick.

* * *

Both Cynthia and I hobble through the trees after that. We find Wolt hiding behind a large, overturned trunk. When he sees his rider appear, very much not crushed, he hops over and smothers her with child-like affection.

Our trio makes are way out of the woods, scarred for life. Any sounds of battle have disappeared completely. Now all that's left is an eerie lack of… anything. Just nothing but the sounds of our footsteps crunching along the dead grass.

As we reach the pond again, Wolt makes a break for the waterline and starts drinking like there's no tomorrow. We park ourselves next to the pegasus, reeling from what happened ten minutes ago. I can still hear my freaking heart banging against this freaking cuirass.

Cynthia pulls out an orange, giving it a sniff before she bites into the thing whole. No, she _doesn't_ peel it. And she can tell her mistake based on the face she makes. The rind gets spat out into the water, then she starts pulling the fruit apart.

I roll my eyes, then take a wedge she offers me. Throw it into my mouth and chew, and try to forget what had just happened.

We sit there for a while like that. The two of us recuperating in our own different ways. It feels familiar, like the years we spent apart never really happened. The sun ticks a bit over the horizon as time passes, neither of us registering how long we're sitting still.

Now's a good a time as any to try and talk with her, but… I don't want to ruin the moment. It feels nice being able to just sit near one of my best friends again.

But at this point, you know how it goes.

Over the horizon, we see Minerva come back. She lands with our husbands, both of them not hurt at all. They're coated in a new layer of ash, which makes me think they killed whatever the hell chased them off.

We get up. Cynthia runs into Gerome's welcoming arms, babbling about Gods knows what. I walk to Subaki, he smiles at the sight of me not hurt. But then he turns his head back and forth, trying to see where his horse is.

All I can do is show him a clump of his fur. The one piece of him that wasn't covered in red.

He doesn't smile after that.

We both hitch a ride on Minerva back to camp, Wolt being able to take to the sky again. Only about a five-minute flight. Land in rearline behind all of the formations and defenses, on top of a hill overlooking it all. At the base I see another trio of pegasus, along with riders gathered around.

Caeldori's among them, thank Naga. Which means she's probably gotten a line on reinforcements coming this way. But…who's the grey haired lady in falcon knight gear? And why is there two of Caelori-

...

No.

No, no, no, no…

I wait for Subaki and Gerome to hop off, then immediately jump to the opposite direction facing away from the newcomers. My breath catches in my throat as I press myself against Minerva's hide and curl into as tight of a ball as I can manage.

I can't. Not now. I'm not ready.

Not after everything that's happened today. Not after having to fight for my life non-stop, not without Morgan, not after that monster nearly killed me in the forest.

I… I don't… I don't deserve this.

I don't deserve a happy ending. Not after what I did in Hoshido, not after I abandoned my kid to grow up without her parents. Not after I abandoned her when she needed me the most, after her husband died and she was stuck raising two kids on her own.

I'm a failure. I'm a half-bred, rage filled, monster who's only good at breaking things and hurting people.

I don't deserve this. I don't deserve her. She hates me, she has to hate me. That's all I'm worth, someone to hate.

Damn it, now I'm crying too. Minevera croons, and I can feel her tail wrap around me protectively.

Just stop. Make the pain **stop**. I don't want to do this again. I don't deserve her. I don't deserve any of them.

I don't deserve to come home. Why do they always let me?

"Selena?" I hear Subaki call, voice still far. I don't respond, my voice is too broken for me to try even if I wanted to.

After a while, I hear someone coming. I don't move, don't open my eyes, don't say a word. Just pretend they aren't there. If I can't see them, if they can't see me, they'll go away.

But they don't go. The steps stop in front of me. Whoever's there doesn't say a word for what feels like an eternity.

Then it happens, just as Minerva shifts

Metal clunks together as I feel someone hug me tight. Warmth flows in, familiar and strong from top to bottom. The waterworks stop, my shaking stops. Everything I felt before melts away, gone in this new comfort that's taken over.

I don't even open my eyes, I know exactly who it is.

"I'm so sorry." I tell her in a small voice. Like her forgiveness is the only thing that matters anymore.

"Don't apologize." She whispers, her hold growing tighter.

"It's been so long." I tell her.

"I know."

"I disappeared." I tell her.

"I knew you'd be back."

"You **needed** me." I tell her.

"I still do."

"...I missed you." I tell her.

"I missed you too."

We stand back up then, her arms lifting me like I'm a child. And my eyes finally open.

She's… older, now. A few crows feet are starting to form at the periphery. Probably because she's overworking herself. Her hair has a few grey strands too. Nothing someone else would notice, but it's easy for me. But the rest is the same as I remember. Her eyes, her smile, her warmth. It hasn't changed at all.

She's still my Mother. Even after all I did, she's still my mother.

Mom sniffs, wiping her eyes first before going to wipe mine. Two minutes back together and she's already doting on me again.

"There's…" I start. "Let's go down. There's people I need to introduce."

"You mean the red haired man and that girl who found us?" Mom asks me, taking her hand back. "Friends you've made on your travels?"

"You have… _no idea._ " I tell her, before taking her hand and leading her back down the hill.

Subaki, Caeldori, Gerome, Cynthia _and_ Aunt Sumia are all gathered together. Cynthia's gone completely mad, the blue haired princess is running circles around her mother. Meanwhile Gerome watches on, bemused at the sight. Because even if I can't see his face, I can tell he's happy for her.

Meanwhile my family spots us. Caeldori points her hand at us both as we make our way over.

We meet up, still a decent distance from anyone who can hear who isn't someone I trust.

"Mom." I start, letting go of her hand and moving to Subaki's side. Caeldori takes the chance to duck for cover behind the both of us. "This is uh… this is Subaki."

"Subaki." She hums, letting the name roll on her tongue. She takes a moment, but smirks at the man. "Hm. And who is he?"

Instead of answering, both of us blush on the spot. I feel him take hold of my hand, and I see Mom's eyes focus down on the engagement ring that's shining on my finger. and she quickly figures out what our relationship is.

"Oh my…" She says, hand touching the tips of her lips. She laughs, looking at the both of us with unfettered joy. "I… I suppose I should have expected this sooner or later."

"I-I swear to the Gods, I've done well by your daughter Miss Cordelia." Subaki says in a panicked voice, like he's about to be carted off to a cell. I giggle, giving his hand a squeeze.

"Oh I'm sure you have, Subaki. My daughter wouldn't marry just _anyone_." She croons, motioning for my hand. I do as she asks and place it there, letting her inspect the jewelry with more precision.

"This is handmade." She deducts, her thumb running over the jet black stone and red steel band. "Similar to mine… but I've never seen this gem before."

"It's called _Kuroihōseki._ " Subaki tells her. "The gem's native to my homeland. I thought it'd… fit her."

"It's lovely. I can tell a lot of care was put into its setting." She observes, resting her hand over mine and smiling. "Just like how you both care for each other."

My face flares red again. I'd complain about her embarrassing me, but come on. I'm not gonna let my snark ruin the moment.

I feel fabric shift behind me, Caeldori peering out to look at Mother again. With a soft word, I wave for her to join us. Both Subaki and I take a step back, letting her stand in front.

"Mom." I say, putting a hand on Caeldori's shoulder. "You two haven't been properly introduced."

"We got the basics down." She tells me, bending over so she's head-level with Caeldori. Gods alive, they really are identical. It's like someone took my girl and aged her a decade. "Caeldori Takeda, correct?"

Caeldori nods meekly, but doesn't speak. squeeze her shoulder and give her shin a tap with my boot.

"Say hello, Caeldori." I instruct.

"H-hello." She says softly.

"Caeldori." I start, realizing how absurd this is all going to sound. I'm introducing my thirty year old mother to her eighteen year old granddaughter. Because the math totally adds up there.

Screw it, this isn't the weirdest thing Mom's been through. She'll manage.

"This is Cordelia. She's the head of the Pegasus Knights back home. She's also my Mom, obviously." I inform. Caeldori nods, I can't see what expression she's making as I stand over her. But judging from _Mom's_ , it's absolutely adorable.

OK, now for the hard part.

"Mom, this is Caeldori. She's my adjutant here." I say, not wanting to break the bottle over her head.

"She's quite the flier. I saw her fend off three griffons all on her own." Mom says, ruffling Caeldori's hair. My daughter's beaming with pride right now, even if I can't see her face I _know_ she is.

"She's amazing. I'm really proud of her." I say. "I think Dad would be too."

That stumps her, mom cocks a brow at me at the seemingly random mention of my father.

I can do this. Nothing strange about this situation at all, no sir. Just a family reunion in the middle of an active warzone. Surrounded by undead terrors that are trying to cut us to pieces. With some sort of underground monster thing that can kill stuff at a moment's notice.

Perfectly normal.

…

Oh who am I kidding, normal's overrated.

"Mom." I start.

"Meet your Granddaughter."

* * *

 _ **A/N: Almost 200K words later, and here we are. Over a hundred favorites, over 40K views, and more of a following then I'd ever think this story would get. This is a niche tale for a niche kind of reader, and yet here we are. The highest favorited Selena/Subaki fic in the section.**_

 _ **I know I say this way, way too much but thanks you all of you. You readers and reviewers are what keep me going with this, even long after I thought it'd go on.**_

 _ **The family's back together again.**_

 _ **Well, almost.**_


	37. C-29: It's Never That Simple

"So, what do you think?" I open up, trying to break the ice that's crept up between the two of us.

After my little reveal, Gerome pulled Subaki over for something. Caeldori stood between me and her grandmother for a minute, then slunk away after neither of us spoke. So I dragged Mother back up the hill, and both of us were up next to Minerva again. The overgrown purse bag was sleeping. At least, I think so. She hasn't moved since we came up here.

Wind's picking up a bit. The blades of grass up here are swaying pretty harshly. Here you can see over the trees pretty well, but not much in the forest. Good enough for a forward camp, but not so much for scouting. What I'd give for a bit of clearance in this place, but Roseanne seems to be completely covered in lumber.

I've never seen my Mom this dumbfounded. Wasn't the intended effect but, the look on her face is _so enriching_. It's been five years since I've gotten to mess with her, and I'm already getting a head start.

Can't go too far though. I can save the real fun for once we're settled in.

I walk back in front of her, gripping her arms in my hands. "Look, I know this is really strange. Like, even by our standards. But there's a perfectly logical explanation."

"To how I'm a thirty year old grandmother?" Mom replies, her gaze remaining fixed on Caeldori as she went down the line checking on the troops.

I scoff, numb to the how odd everything is at this point. "You already have two twenty-something daughters, is this really that weird?"

Mother sighs, the beginnings of her crow's feet stretching their talons. "No, I suppose it isn't. But let me guess, it has something to do with a dragon?"

"...Yeah." I tell her, twisting my foot in the dirt.

"Then that's enough explanation for me." Mom assures, either because she doesn't want to know the details or she doesn't think this is the time and place.

Her eyes haven't moved an inch off of my little girl this whole time.

"She has a beautiful soul. You can feel her presence all the way up here. From the moment I laid eyes on her I could sense something was special." She assesses.

"You mean other than the fact that you both look the same?" I asked.

She shakes her head. "Not exactly. Her flying technique is impeccable, but not a style I'm familiar with. Anyone can tell that she has natural talent. She's experienced as well, but not a veteran. Still has much to learn."

"You got that all from one flight?" I ask again, surprised how she's able to digest all of this in such a short amount of time.

"Remember what my job is, pumpkin." Mother reminds me. She doesn't have to, the rank ribbons hanging off her armor tell everyone that she's someone important. Mine looks barren in comparison, just the armor and outfit beneath everything.

"Fine." I relent. "So what's your verdict?"

"...She'd be a fine addition to the regiment. Could easily become a squad leader in a year."

"Not as a soldier, Mother. As a person."

She takes a long breath, trying to sort out her thoughts into something I can understand. There's a lot there, behind the eyes there isn't any stable emotion.

"...She's more like you than I. Physically, yes, we're almost twins. But…"

Mother stops talking, lifting a finger to point in Caeldori's direction while she marches to the next group. "See how she walks? It's brisk and tense, always expecting something to happen. And pay attention to how she looks at people when speaking."

I do just that, waiting for her to engage in conversation with another person on the line.

"What am I looking for?" I ask as she begins conversing with a pikeman. Only side of her face is visible, and I can't make out what either of them is saying this far falls back into a parade rest, hands locked behind her back.

"Her eyes harden up. Behind her expression she's judging everyone." She tells me, taking pause before delving deeper. "Not in a malicious way, mind. More like she's… trying to understand them."

I keep watching, trying to catch traces of whatever she's going on about. I can't see it, but Mom's hinting that she got it from me. Maybe I'm just too used to that outlook to notice it.

"Did Miriel teach you how to psycho-analyse people while I was gone?" I ask, half joking. Laurent's mother always had an uncanny ability to tell what made people tick, even if she didn't understand why it made them tick that way.

Mom laughs at the idea. She drops her soldier's posture and smiles, letting herself relax as we both stand in the middle of a war zone. It's something I was never able to do, I walked on a knife's edge even outside of combat.

"In conclusion, she seems like a lovely girl who puts far too much on her own shoulders." Mother surmised. "It's… hard to believe that I'm really a Grandmother. But as you said, this is quite strange."

I breathe a sigh of relief. She doesn't hate her, good. After that standoff I was worried something had happened between them both when she'd gone to get help. But maybe that was just the initial shock of being told _she's a granny_.

That's one thing settled.

"...You're probably wondering why I didn't write." I comment, averting my eyes away from her general direction.

"I am, but I think you'll tell me when you're ready." Mother assures, not pushing me into any long winded discussion as to why I've been avoiding her these past few months. She's always been good at that, pressing me when I need to be pressed and giving me space when I want to be left alone.

"Yeah. Yeah, I will once we're safe." I promise. "But… in the meantime, could you go talk with Caeldori and Subaki?"

I can feel her eyes focus in on me before I even turn back to look. My hands pop up defensively, trying to shield myself. "N-not that I'm trying to get you to leave! I just…" I fumble, trying to find the words to explain what I want. "...I want you to get to know them. They're both amazing people, Mom."

She keeps looking at me, radiating mirth. I feel like there's a thousand eyes melting me into the ground. What's got her in such a good mood?

"I swear, this is the longest you've gone without berating or insulting someone." She jabs, my arms dropping limp. Her giggle fills the air, before she comes over and takes my hands. "And what are you going to do, dear? Hopefully not stand here and sulk as usual."

"I don't sulk!" I protest immediately, feeling my face get warm as I start tearing back. "Why do you care, anyway?! What I do isn't your damn business!"

Mother just giggles even more, clearly enjoying how much of a hard time she's giving me.

"There's my little girl." She croons, lifting her hands up to straighten out my hair. "Even though you're all grown up, don't think I can't read you like a book."

I groan, but don't resist, letting her make myself look a bit more presentable after the long day I've had. Even if she's treating me like I'm a kid again, even if she's doting on me like I never left.

Maybe it's good that some things haven't changed.

* * *

Things are pretty quiet for the next half-hour.

The people on guard duty have been keeping the risen at bay pretty well. We send platoons of people out at a time, searching for anyone who's missing and bringing them back where it's safe… -ish. The situation's getting stable, now. But it's still pretty bad.

Mom and Sumia tell me it'll be a while until the rest of the pegasus knights arrive. Until then, I'm sitting alone next to Minerva while trying to plan this all out. The map's opened up in my lap and I'm twirling a quill between my fingers.

Our hovel is about forty minutes to the east of the main camp. I've already had the infantry break out the shovels and start digging trench-lines along the outside. Headcount puts our numbers at about three hundred and fifty. That isn't including the Valentians we took in.

It's tricky. We need to last long enough for help to arrive, but we also can't let the risen just walk right past us and hit the camp. What _sucks_ is that every time I try to lead them away in the other direction, they always start marching back west.

So if we can't make them leave, and we can't let them pass, then we need to take them out. Not possible with our current forces.

Once the fliers are here though…

If they can just keep the packs separated, I can send groups of my people out to surround those smaller gatherings. Enough to take them out, then pull back. Repeat that over and over again until their numbers dwindle. Then we can pull back to camp and get the wounded treated.

But that doesn't shake the pit in my stomach. Something is _making_ them keep coming towards us. As long as that's out there, more'll come. Maybe not now, but soon.

Ugh. Come on, Sev. You've spent your life hunting these freaks, don't lose your cool.

"Keeping the archers in reserve only makes us more outnumbered." Someone tells me, the sudden sound making lose my grip.

As I pick my quill up from the grass, and look up to see a tall man that looks vaguely familiar. He's wearing a thick brown and green padded vest, fluffy brown hair and sharp green eyes. Extremely defined jawline, not a mark on his skin. His posture's straight, but it's not _prissy_ either.

I realize who it is, and remind myself to stop undressing the people who want to kill me with my eyes.

"What happened to your armor?" I ask him, rolling the map back up so he can't see more than he already has.

"Ruined in the last risen raid." Moltke laments, adjusting the cuff-link over his wrist. "Thankfully we dispatched them without losses."

"Good to hear your people are holding their own." I tell the Valentian genuinely. Don't know why, it'd make my life a lot easier if they got themselves killed. But for some reason I decided to be hospitable.

"We are not, frankly. If we were alone out here, we would have likely perished hours ago." The Lieutenant answers, keeping himself focused on me. "Regardless, you requested my presence Major?"

I grunt, patting the grass next to me and spinning around so we're facing one another. He sits without any protest.

"So. Situation aside, you're still my prisoner." I begin, ignoring the horn call that blares out at the base of the hill. "I fully intend to take you back to our camp when this is over."

"As I expected. We're allies only by circumstance." He tells me, validating it for me as well as himself. After our last spat, he probably has an itch to run me through.

I roll with it, not really wanting to waste time on getting him on my side. "Great. In the spirit of that, I have some questions you're going to be answering."

"You mean to interrogate me?" He asks, bewildered, before suring himself up and shaking his head. "I refuse. As a Knight of the One Kingdom, I will not sully my honor by betraying knowledge that has been privileged to m-"

He stopped talking as I clenched my right hand into a fist. Ignis ignites, the Brand burning back alive once more. Purple, translucent flames dance all over my glove.

"Sorry, say that again? You were monologuing and I stopped giving a damn." I hiss, trying to replicate the voice from my head. If I can't hide this mark anymore, then I'm gonna at least use it to get what I want.

His bluster fades as my threat registers, and Moltke becomes far more docile.

"That's what I thought." I hum, letting the flames die. "I don't care about your battle plans anyway, with the Risen here I'm sure your General's already scrapped everything."

He's unresponsive, so I snap my fingers in his face. "Hey, hey. Pretty boy! Eyes here!"

Moltke stumbles back into consciousness, and I can finally get some answers.

"We'll start with the basics. You said your home only recently joined up with the Valentians, right?"

"Correct." He answers quickly.

"Why." I demand.

"Stability." Moltke readily informs. "By joining the One Kingdom, we gained access to her resources. My homeland's trade routes are guarded now, and they've readily partaken in rebuilding the damage left behind."

"You told me the Risen have never made it this far south before." I recall.

"Not the Risen. The Civil War." He tells me, adjusting his legs for a better seat. "With Walhart's fall, the old dynasts quickly returned to their old habits. People all over Valm began kill each other for the Empire's scraps. Our homes were already damaged due to the Ylissean League's invasion… after that we destroyed all that remained."

I sigh, thinking back to the end of our Valmese campaign. Chrom didn't want to stick around once Walhart had been killed. The way he saw it, any action we took would just seem like we were trying to form our own Empire. So, after Say'ri got crowned and everyone was accounted for, we left. Decided to leave this continent's destiny in its own hands.

The whole place was ready for a power vacuum. We were so scared of helping, we hurt them more than we ever wanted.

"Some nations were spared the conflicts." Moltke recalled. "Chon'sin, Roseanne and Zofia namely. But most of us were left floundering in the Conqueror's wake."

"Guess that explains why you're all so keen to follow his heir." I observe.

"That is part of it." He admits. "However… King Albein is not like his forefathers."

Yet another vote of confidence for this guy. "I've heard a lot of people tell me that, and yet no one's explained why."

"For starters, no one here is conscripted. Every soldier you see is a paid volunteer." He explains. "The One Kingdom decriminalized the Church of Valm, we were allowed to worship Naga and Duma again."

Another god who's name I don't know, but I don't want to interrupt his speech.

"They sent gold and workers to repair our lands, and not once have their soldiers bared arms against our citizenry." Moltke wraps up, letting me speak in turn.

"He's still annexing other countries by force." I reply.

My counterpart becomes conflicted, his brain working overtime as he tries to rationalize this. "...I will be honest with you, Major Volkner. Roseanne is the only nation I know of that we've invaded."

"What?" I ask, stunned.

"Every other vassal state joined willingly." He reveals. "Two years ago, Roseanne refused membership. The King lamented, but he issued a proclamation saying that we would leave the Duchy be."

"So he lied." I quickly rationalize. It wouldn't be the first time someone tried to look like the good guy while holding a knife behind their back.

Moltke just shakes his head. "No. I fully believe he wasn't planning to attack from the onset. My own regiment was originally garrisoned in the north, defending the frontier. It was only recently that this invasion was cobbled together-"

He quickly shuts up again, but his wording gives away far too much. 'Cobbled together', so the army we're facing already isn't that organized. Their lack of good equipment reinforces that, which also means that their logistics are also probably a mess.

But then there's everything else adding together. The people in Nellis willingly allowing soldiers to take over their homes, Beril's violent rejection of Walhart, and now Moltke saying no one else

has been attacked.

All of that, magically happening just as the Risen rear their ugly faces back up. Cherche's theory now sounds like reality to me.

Something. Some _one,_ changed the status quo. Someone's trying to cause another war in Valm.

"We're being played." I mutter.

"Come again?" Moltke asks.

"If everything you're saying is true, then your King would've never invaded Roseanne. It seems completely out of character for him." I say.

"Many of us were confused with the sudden shift in policy, but we didn't wish to question orders." Moltke answers in agreement.

Not questioning authority feels especially weird, given the past. "They didn't give you a reason why?"

Again, Moltke takes pause, choosing his words carefully before speaking. "...There had been rumors of your troops raiding our villages. Someone said they'd found the body of a man wearing Roseanne's uniform in the ashes."

"That'd doesn't make sense." I declare outright. "Virion wouldn't attack another country. He definitely wouldn't have his soldiers kill innocent farmers."

"I am inclined to believe you. From the discussions I've had with your men, none of them understand why we are even here." He answers, chafing under the duality of our situation. "At first I believed it was because their leaders were hiding the truth."

"Gee, thanks." I mutter. Even if that's literally what I was thinking five seconds ago.

"But this conversation has been quite enlightening." He amends. "Unless you're lying to me."

"If Virion was the kind of man who'd do what you're accusing him of, my country would've never come to his aid." I say again, feeling the urge to defend the Duke and my home. "We're only here because he's a good man."

"Hm." Another pause. "...Yes, I suppose that makes sense. Ylisse is known for being morally just."

His eyes shift down, then. Squaring themselves on the back of my right hand. "That being said, they allowed Grimleal into their officer corps."

"I'm not-" I groan, not wanting to go through this song and dance for the umpteenth time. "Look. I'm not the most religious person out there, but I'm in Naga's camp."

I remove my glove, letting him see the dull purple brand. "This… thing on my hand? I was born with it. It's a birthmark, not a tattoo."

His eyes focus deeper onto mark. Looking closer, he can probably see how the purple on my hand is skin instead of ink. Pores and lines run through it like it's always been there. Because it _has_ always been there.

He sighs, but looks back up at me. "I shall give you the benefit of the doubt, fellblood. You've earned that much."

"Thank you." I tell him honestly. In the spirit of kindness, I try to give him some in return.. "And I'm sorry for… all the threats."

He shook his head back and forth, like he couldn't believe he was saying this. "Yesterday we were all trying to kill one another, I can forgive lingering distrust."

"Then you're a better person than me." I tell him, offering him the hand as I stand back up on my own two feet. He takes it, and I heft him alongside me. From the corner of my eye, I see Cynthia darting her way up here.

What happened _now_?

* * *

" **Get the wounded behind the line!"** Subaki yells, motioning for the defenses to break free and make an opening.

Another blob of survivors found their way back here. Even this long after we were scattered, smaller groups have been trickling in piece by piece. Two or three people a part, covered in muck and scared beyond belief.

This one's really bad though, larger than usual and everyone's broken in some way. Not just hurt, but the way they look in their eyes is almost inhuman. It's a larger mosh, about ten of them. But they didn't find much strength in numbers.

The burns are what weird me out. I didn't see any undead mages before, and we can't really fight against them now.

As they're dragged back and set up in the safest place possible, I hear mother and Sumia take off towards the sky. Something's gotten their mounts' attention. Meanwhile Cynthia and I assess the damage. Six of them laying down next to one another. We go down the line, seeing what we can do.

First one's got their legs missing. Yes, legs, plural. Never seen normal risen do that before either, but today's been a back to school session. Stopped the bleeding, but there's a fifty-fifty chance they'll survive shock.

Next one's missing an eye, and the rest of the right side of her face. That much I can save, even if she'll be a freak of nature for the rest of her life.

Cynthia's got the other three, so I go on a knee and check this last boy. Leaning close, I see that it's none other than my old insubordinate punching bag.

Vincent's got claw-marks going all the way down from his neck to his crotch. I can _see_ the lining of his ribcage, his armor's completely ruined. Somehow, he didn't bleed out on the way here. But he is bleeding, and his guts're exposed to the world. We don't have water here to keep them moist.

Cynthia trots over, going green as she sees the state the backwater nobleman's in. I roll my eyes, never understood how she hasn't built an immunity to this stuff. But she reels it back in, and tries to activate her stave.

My hand clamps down on the orb, shaking my head. "Don't."

"But he's-"

"Already dead, and I'm not wasting medical supplies on a corpse." I inform her coldly, before pointing back towards her own patients. "Are they good to go?"

"They're alright…" She says, volume dropping as I condemn the kid to the afterlife. Her gaze doesn't shift away from him, just staying squared on his faintly rising and lowering chest.

"Then get them back to their platoon and on the line." I order. She still doesn't budge, so I step in front of her to break line of sight. She gasps at the sudden motion, dazed, before she turns around and slowly starts to move away again.

Vincent starts coughing as she leaves.

I return to my previous posture, looking the kid in the face. Hard to believe the snot-nosed runt I beat to a pulp's this same kid I see now. The look in his eyes is the same as it was in that spar, scared. He knows as much as anyone he won't last the hour.

Like last time, I pull out my canteen and give it a shake. He tries to open his mouth as best he can, and I waterfall what's left into his mouth. Half of it splashes off his cheeks and goes onto the ground, but enough seems to make it in. He coughs again, water probably going down the wrong pipe.

"I can get a Cleric." I tell him, screwing the cap back on. "Last rites, if you care about those things."

Vincent nods, but opens his mouth again. Instead of taking stuff in, words come out. Soft and faint. Quiet enough that I've got to put my ear close so I can make it out.

'Safehouse' and 'farm' is all I understand. The rest is too garbled to make sense of.

At some point, he stops talking. I can see him blink and breathe, but I think forming words is too hard for him now. So I stand back up, turn around and leave to find a Cleric.

' _You should've killed him.'_ The voice rings out in my head.

I scoff. ' _Why, so you can finish the job from last time?'_

' _...He doesn't deserve to suffer.'_ It answers, making me halt in my step. For the first time since this thing's dug itself into my brain, it actually said something human. I shake it out of my mind, not wanting to give my insanity more of a stage than it's already stolen.

He doesn't deserve to suffer. But he doesn't deserve to die, period.

* * *

Mother and Sumia touch back down on top of the hill. Caeldori and I both run up so we can see what made them fly off.

As we make our way to the top, we see that a third pegasus is there with them. It's laden with supplies, extra staves and first aid kits hanging wildly off the saddle. Along with stuff I recognize. Maps, a fire tome, some ration bars. Getting out of the saddle it's a scruffy blonde… Priest?

Holy crow it's Percy.

"Percival!" Caeldori cries, her speed doubling mine as she sprints up the hill. My daughter practically shoves her grandmother out of the way, instantly going to the healer and tackle-hugging him.

Okaaaaaaaaaaaaay, that's setting off a million alarm bells.

' _We're killing him.'_ The voice tells me.

' _Agreed.'_ I think back.

I keep going, moving past my two seniors and ignoring my two juniors as the former tries to get my attention and the latter are trapped in their own discussion. Instead I stop in front of the Pegasus, hands on my hips.

Just as I suspected, Camus.

The little shit snorts, air blowing out of his nose. I'm probably fuming, because I can tell he's wondering why I'm so upset. As if he doesn't know, _abandoning_ me here for hours on end. My hand goes up and I grab his ear, twisting it and pulling him close so my eyes are boring right into his.

He still doesn't see the problem. If anything he's getting angry with ME. Like I'm the one who did something wrong. Not him, leaving without telling me why or if he'd even come back. Along with all my supplies, charts, extra rations. No, no. He just comes and goes as he pleases! Not like we're supposed to be partners or anything! **I'm** the one who's being irrational!

Then it hits me.

...I'm having a mental argument, about a relationship with a horse.

This is, _officially_ , the **stupidest** thing I've ever done.

"Er, Severa?" I hear Sumia ask. "Why are you standing off with that pegasus?"

I turn to see both her most Serene Stumbleness and my Mother looking at me like I'm a basket case. They're not wrong with that assessment, doesn't mean I'm not offended.

"Because, he's a feather plucked _jerk_." I tell them, giving his ear another sharp yank. He doesn't seem to feel it, but Sumia clearly gets more upset I keep manhandling him. Mother just watches on, frowning in disapproval but not making a scene of it.

"Ugh, alright." I groan, releasing my grip on him before giving his snout a pat. "Mom, Auntie, meet my fleabag of a partner." Yet again, Camus whinnies as he's mentioned. I shoot him a look to pipe down, but it isn't like he's gonna start listening to me now.

"He's quite vocal." Mother observes.

"I've never seen this coat before." Sumia muses, walking forward and running her hand along Camus' dark orange fur. "It's not native to Valm _or_ Archenea."

"Well, I found him here. So he's probably from one of the local islands or something." I brush off, not really interested in knowing where my living nightmare came from. Right now he's on cloud nine though, with Aunt Sumia rubbing the back of his neck and whispering into his ear. Gods, she has an almost creepy effect on animals.

Mother stays back, in fact her mood seems to worsen as something comes back to her. "Explains what you're doing in that armor." She questions.

Confused, I look down at my outfit. Her tone becomes eerily similar to how she spoke to me before I left, when she was putting me through hell with all the Knight drills. When she stops being my Mother and starts being the Captain.

Before I can ask why, Caeldori hops up next to us. I can barely make out Percy already running down the hillside. Opting to not further my mother's discontent, I decided to switch out this conversation with one that won't leave me stewing in inferiority.

"Where's Percy going?" I ask, silently lamenting that I won't be able to give him a piece of my mind.

"He's going to try and help the injured." She tells me, gesturing over to Camus. "Apparently, our friend here flew all the way back to base. Percy was able to figure out something was wrong, so he saddled up with as many supplies as he could and flew back."

"Awww, what a smart wittle guy…" I hear Sumia croon, along with hearing myself gag.

Great, now I need to _thank_ him for ditching me. Could this day get any more demeaning?

I go back over to Camus, shooting him one last dirty look before digging around in my satchel to pull out a map.

The one I've been using up until now was really Moltke's, I just stole it from him when we took the prisoners. This one's a lot more detailed, all of the patrol routes and checkpoints I had planned out are doodled across. Of course all that planning's useless, now. But I'm not interested in the plans.

Instead I keep scanning around, further and further. Until I find it. Renais Homestead, a big crop farm a little bit to the north. Vincent's last words come back to mind.

"Mom. Can you take Caeldori somewhere real fast?" I ask.

Both of them, along with Sumia, move over to get a better understanding of what I'm saying. I tilt the map forwards, pressing my finger to the large rectangular place cut out. "It's about a twenty minute flight. Way, way too far for footmen or horses."

"Very much so." Mother muses, she's probably double-checking the math in her head. "We could go there, but why?"

"One of my men said something about a farm." I explain, rolling the parchment up and stuffing it back into the saddle. "It was important enough that he needed to tell me while he was choking on his own blood."

"Rather grizzly image." Mother notes, Sumia and Caeldori also going about as green as Cynthia did before. Still, she nods agreeing. "Alright, we'll go. But you're coming with us."

"Uh… Mom. I've kind of got, y'know…" I point down the hill, towards all of the soldiers I'm supposed to be commanding. "It's just a scouting mission, I can't leave my people."

"I'll watch over them while you're gone." Sumia offers. Before I can tell her otherwise, Mother speaks up again

"That sounds like a great idea, thank you Sumia." She says, smirking. Both of them on the same wavelength, trying to get me to go along on this errand.

"Wait, wait! I didn't agree to go!" I start protesting.

"Then consider it a royal order." Sumia tells me. Again, I open my mouth to try and protest against this, but all I get in response is one of her blood-freezing glares.

I shut up then and there. Not many people know this, but Cynthia's mother is _terrifying_ when she wants to be.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Two months later...**_

 _ **Yeah I haven't really been following my schedule well, have I? Originally this chapter was going to be a bit longer, but I've decided to parse it so I can post something instead of waiting until the end of December.**_

 _ **Anyway, uh, I was NOT expecting the response that I got from last chapter. Easily the most reviews I've ever gotten in one sitting. So in the spirit of such, I'll get some responses out as usual.**_

 _ **Sigmatic: *Bows***_

 _ **CrusaderJerome: Well, I'm glad I can make the most of this serial method. I try to do a mix of giving enough information that people feel satisfied, while also dangling things at the end to keep them invested in the next chapter.**_

 _ **Dandaman5: Pulled a sneak on ya didn't I?**_

 _ **severak: You're closer than you think. Next chapter, you'll see.**_

 _ **MidnightToDusk: Glad you're enjoying yourself! A lot of people do ship Odin and Elise. Sadly, I'm not among the crowd, but I see why. I'm gonna keep Owain and Inigo's spouses very much in the dark, but they will be outright stated when it becomes relevant. Eventually.**_

 _ **Silver556: They're gonna be getting their own Homecoming stories. Originally, this fic was titled 'Book One'. Decided to change the subscript to Rupture due to it being more fitting.**_

 _ **BrandedKing: You know me, I pride myself on characterization. That and comedic timing.**_

 _ **shorty: Breathe, man, BREATHE**_

 _ **A: Thank you very much**_

 _ **ColdT: And thank YOU very much. Can't believe people like this enough to be making accounts for it!**_

 _ **Ocharlos: The wait's over. From here on out, Cordelia's sticking around. So we get to see more of her dealing with her new role as Grandmother, and the person she's become in this post-Grima world.**_

 _ **Anyway, next chapter is gonna be very plot dense. I feel safe in saying everyone's gonna be quite on edge.**_

 _ **But until then**_

 _ **o/**_


	38. C-30: No Man's Sky

Four of us fly side by side as we make our way to the farmstead. Camus' orange butt is over on the left, while Hinoka takes the center and Aurora takes the right.

While the three of us on pegasus stick close under the cloud-cover, Gerome flutters along the tree canopy to warn us of any new hordes heading towards our holdout. Because even though I only wanted _two_ people to go on this trip, apparently everyone else thought that more was better.

Caeldori's mount shares a similar coat to Aurora, except it has less of a bright sheen. Hinoka looks more like the blade of a spear, a dull greyish white shining in the sun. My mother's partner has a far more snowy coat. It's also larger, and has a horn sticking out of it's head. Because Falicorns do that.

They've been chatting about random things. Books, pegasus care techniques, old tales of the fights they've gotten dragged into. Caeldori's taken to Mother just as fast as she took to Morgan. And yet again I feel extremely jealous even though this is exactly what I wanted to happen.

The forest had cleared for a while again, but as we got closer I saw trees start popping up all over again. On the map, Renais was a pretty large farming commune. Several buildings, some for workers while the family that owned the joint had the big one in the dead center. That, plus the stables and barnhouse made a five pointed star that was surrounded by fields for crops and grass for the cows.

Apparently, this whole part of Roseanne used to be covered in large farms just like it. Then Walhart leveled them all, trying to cull the food that could reach the capitol. Not that it mattered, he ran over the whole duchy in a day regardless.

Knowing Virion, he probably planned on building more farmsteads like this. Something this size alone must've taken months to get ready. But this invasion obviously threw a wrench into things.

Camus tilts his head up, sensing that my brain's running faster than usual. He makes a concerned sound, asking if I'm alright.

"I'm fine, fleabag." I whisper to him, running my hand along his mane carefully. He keeps his eyes on me, validating what I tell him, before leveling his head back down towards the direction we're flying.

I wanna be upset at him, but I can't be. I'm just glad someone I trusted didn't abandon me again. He came back, and that's all I care about.

"Mother!" Caeldori calls to me, making me turn to look at her again. My mother's smirking along side her, which makes me think they're both planning something.

"What is it now?" I ask, straightening up my back so I can stretch my arms out. Gods, I feel so tense. My entire back is knotted up.

"I've been chatting with Grandmother, and she told me about how she and Grandfather met." Caeldori explains, giddy beyond belief as she's now privy to this forbidden knowledge. "How come _you_ never told me the story about how it happened?"

"Because how it happened in my timeline isn't the same as how it happened in this one." I tell her, which earns me another one of her confused looks. She doesn't understand this time mumbo-jumbo, not that I can blame her.

Mother's pensive as well, before she chips in her own request."You never told me how your father and I met in your world, Severa."

I sigh, letting my arms slump as I finish up my stretches. "That's because I didn't like talking about the future, Mother. I still don't."

Her expression worsens. That wasn't the answer she wanted, nor was it one she would accept. "Even now, after it's been nullified completely?"

"No, no. I just don't talk about it for the **fun of it.** " I say through gritted teeth, my words mixing in with a guttural growl. Caeldori physically flinches away, but Mother remains resolute. Before I left she built a pretty strong resistance to my mood swings.

Just because we accomplished our goal, doesn't mean all the bad memories suddenly went away. Even now, years after the fact, I still wake up in cold sweats thinking I'm about to be trampled to death by an undead horse.

Or because I could feel a Grimleal dagger near my throat.

Or because somewhere in the back of my mind, even though I know it's **not possible anymore,** I still think Grima's going to find a way to return.

The present situation added quite a bit of fuel to that fire.

Though this time, it doesn't seem like mother is going to relent. The glare she's aiming at me lets me know exactly what's coming out of her mouth next.

" **Severa Maria Medon-Volkner."** She rattles off, making my stomach do somersaults as I hear my full name. "You do **not** take that tone with your mother. **Behave yourself.** "

" _Yes ma'am."_ I whimper out quietly.

" **Louder."**

" **Yes ma'am!"** I repeat.

Mother's dictatorial manner fades away with my subservience, Caeldori is laughing so hard I think she's about to slip out of her saddle. Thanks, Mom. Now I'll never be able to tell her to do anything with this coming back.

Grumbling, I dig my hand through Camus' saddle bag. My daughter's laughs fade away as I pat around for what I'm looking for, right around when I find it. As I pull my hand up, the smell of spice faintly enters the air.

Cinnamon rolls. Managed to whip some up the night before we left. Didn't have any ingredients to make icing, but my grandmother's recipe works fine without it. I take a bite, letting the sugar take me so I can escape this situation one way or the other. But by now Caledori's recovered.

"What about you and father? How did you get together?" She asks, tilting her head as she sees what I'm holding in my hand. Again she's fidgeting in her seat, this time clearly wanting one. These were her favorite whenever I visited her deeprealm.

"I'm also curious. You must have met during your travels." Mother infers, jumping on the chance to dig up more information on what she's missed.

I sigh, taking another bite out of the roll. As I chew, I weigh the pros and cons of telling them about the first time I saw Subaki. Isn't a happy story, we were on the opposite sides of a fight. Heck, if things had gone the wrong way, one of us could have killed the other.

Still, it's going to be a while longer until we reach the farmstead. Guess this is as good a way to pass the time as any.

* * *

I've always hated boats. It's like being stuck on a big, wooden prison that never stays still. It's cramped, everything's damp, the weather sucks, the food sucks even more. Plus the whole time you're on one, you can only think about what you're going to do when you finally get off. On top of that, I never developed sea legs! So half of the trip, I'm cooped up in my cabin puking out a window.

Traveling on boats sucks. _Fighting_ on boats is even worse. That fight in particular was one of the few things I ever regret doing.

Remember when I mentioned that mission Lady Camilla had to kill her little sister? About how Garon was forcing her to do something she'd hate herself for the rest of her life over? About how he was making _Flora_ help by holding her entire tribe as collateral if they didn't get the job done?

Yeah, this is that story.

All of the other troops were ice tribe conscripts, terrified that if they failed that they'd be returning to their family's bodies on pikes.

Flora was a complete mental catastrophe. Corrin was like a second sister to her, and knowing what her relationship to _Jakob_ turned into, it just made it twice as bad.

Camilla didn't speak a word the whole way. Only time she left her quarters was to receive reports or to take meals.

Beruka… well Beruka didn't care. She hadn't really developed… emotions? Morality? A soul? Not yet anyway.

And I wasn't in a good state of mind myself.

For context, this was about three weeks into Nohr's invasion of Hoshido. That entire time, I had been on the front line doing Garon's dirty work. Raiding villages, burning crops, beating on the locals, killing everyone who had a weapon in their hand. Kidnapping everyone else who didn't.

Like I've said before, I turned into the thing I had fought my whole life. And I hated myself for it. Part of me still does.

So yeah, we weren't exactly on a happy little cruise.

When the ambush started, Flora froze the whole section of water that surrounded Corrin's ship. The tribesmen ran across the ice towards the boat, Camilla and Beruka flew over the open expanse. I hitched a ride on the back of Beruka's mount, and got off when we finally reached the boat.

Basically the moment we landed, I was fighting. Oboro met as soon as I got on my feet, barely even drew my sword in time to block her attack. The whole skirmish, she had me on the back-foot. Fighting a naginata with a sword isn't easy, it's even harder when the person holding the naginata knows what they're doing.

Thankfully, backup showed up. A few of the ice-tribesmen took over for me, which means I got to break off and go hunting for the real target.

I still had my morals, compromised as they were. Way I saw it, if I just killed Corrin quickly, then we might be able to leave before anyone else had to meet our makers.

Finding her was the easiest part. The Princess wasn't exactly inconspicuous. Long white hair, silver armor and a grey cape. Part of her ear sticking out at a weird angle, should've caught on then that something was wrong. She was sticking to the back, knowing her now she was probably still trying to think of a 'diplomatic solution.' Because somehow, _somehow_ , she managed to always solve things with a minimal body count.

Either way, I found her. It was time to get this over with.

I ran up to her as fast as my legs could carry me. Sword, tip pointed right for her chest. She spotted me pretty quick, wasn't really hard to, and lifted that weird spirit sword of hers up to deflect my attack.

Sadly for her, I don't fight fair. I used the momentum of her parry, dug one of my feet into the floorboards, then sucker-punched Corrin right in the jaw. She stumbled back from the impact, and gave me time to sure up my stance again.

Assaulted again, trying to keep the pressure up. This time I lunged forward and slashed along her waist, but she side-stepped it to my left. Spun around to block her counter-strike, then shoved her back again. Kept pushing, further and further, sending a flurry of slashes and stabs her way. She couldn't keep pace, the ones she couldn't block dug into her sides piece by piece.

Corrin didn't realize I was backing her into a corner until it was too late. As her butt smacked into the door to the captain's quarters, I saw her panic. That last moment in someone's eyes as they realize how big of a mistake they've made.

I didn't hesitate. My steel boot went straight into her chest, sent her flying through the wood and into the room. The yato fell out of her hand and landed on the ground between us.

Gods, it was like beating up a child.

"Can't believe _you're_ the traitor that has everyone going insane." I taunted, stepping into the room. It was well lit, sun from the windows meant I could see everything. Corrin had been launched onto the ground, she was lying on her back and groaning in pain. Behind her was the map table, some charts and an unlit lamp resting on it.

As I walked inside, she sat up. Her eyes went down to the Yato, and she tried to dive for her weapon. For what it's worth, she grabbed the hilt. But at that point my boot was already firmly stamped on the blade, keeping it in place.

The Princess tried to yank the thing free. Right as I felt the metal slide under my sole, my other foot shot up and smashed right in her face. Again, she flew backwards. This time into the table, breaking a chunk of wood off and sending the lamp crashing down on her head.

"What a waste of my time." I grumbled, kicking her precious heirloom too far corner of the room. Corrin's face was pretty banged up at this point. Half of it was covered in oil from the lamp, staining her hair and clothing. The other half was splattered with red, my boot to the face having broken her nose.

"Three weeks. Three weeks, Camilla's been crying her eyes out over _you_." I told her, venting out my frustrations. Then again this whole fight had been me venting out my anger. "When we went back to Krakenberg, I heard her _beg_ Garon to spare you. But no.

I lifted both my hands up, stopping right in front of her as I gestured to the world. "Instead he made her do this. Her, Flora, all of those conscripts. Their lives got turned upside down because _you_ betrayed your family."

Finally, I got a response from her. Weak, but it was there. Her head shook back and forth, denying everything I'd just accused her of. "I… I haven't betrayed anyone. I'm doing this for them."

I rolled my eyes. Should have finished her off by then, but something was stopping. "Unfortunately for you, your father doesn't see it like that."

"My father. Is **dead."** Corrin spat back, looking at me. Through all the years I'd seen Corrin before, that was the first time I'd seen her mad. "Garon killed him in front of me. And then he kidnapped me, kept me locked in a castle, lied to me for my **entire life** about who I was."

That declaration was what made me hesitate. No one had told me Corrin wasn't really his daughter. But if what she was saying was true, then she had no reason to stand by the psychopath. Even my loyalty to Garon was already dangling by a string, Camilla was the only reason why I hadn't broken ranks and deserted.

Plus, I understood what it was like to see your old man die.

Corrin's hand started to shuffle under her outfit, slow and precise. My grip tightened around my rapier, but I couldn't strike at this point. I already knew I was on the wrong side, and all of this was making it even worse.

"I'm doing this for all of them. Camilla, Xander, Leo, Elise. Every day, all I think about is my siblings. All of this is so they're safe." She reaffirmed, before she pulled out a gem. Deep blue, spherical. I instantly knew what it was, after seeing Nah play around with one for most of my life.

"A dragonstone!?" I said, taking a large step back. My brain put the stone and her weird ears together, and realized I just picked a bad fight.

"You… know what this is?" Corrin said, clearly surprised. Her eyes looked at me with a newfound curiosity. She pulled herself back up, the stone started to shine with a dim light. "I thought only Azura had heard of these before."

I didn't respond, too busy backpedaling towards the door. Small spaces plus transforming manakete means squished _me._

"My sister always did say you were a strange one." Corrin hummed, chuckling as she brought her gem up. "...I didn't want to do this. But I can't just let you hurt my friends."

This was the point where I turned around and ran for my life. Being in a cramped room with a manakete looking to transform was going to end with a very squished me against the walls.

As I stepped back outside, the battle was still in full swing. Everyone was engaged, though we were very clearly losing. Most of the ice-tribesmen were on the ground, knocked out or worse. Camilla was trying to fight off a kinshi knight and a sky knight, you can guess who that was. Beruka was being triple-teamed by ninja, and was getting overwhelmed.

Before I could decide what to do next, it happened.

A loud crash filled the air, and behind me this massive silver beast started to gallop towards me. It had the body of a mountain-goat and the antlers of a buck, nothing like any dragon I'd ever seen before. I couldn't even tell THAT was Corrin, just that I was in danger.

As the thing pounced at me, I rolled to the side. The wooden boards splintered as boards started to fly all over the place. As I tried to scramble myself back up, the thing's tail whipped around and smacked me right across the chest.

I danced across the deck like a rock, sliding to a stop and dazed. Again, I tried to stand up again. Again, Corrin started charging me down. And this time I didn't move fast enough. Both her hooves slammed down on top of me, pinning me in place.

Her hoof things somehow had fingers, and suddenly I was hoisted up into the air. The whole time I was kicking and flailing, trying to get loose. But most of my resistance had been beaten out of me. I looked around, trying to find a way out, when I spotted Beruka diving in from behind to try and help me out.

Not that she did. Corrin sensed her, somehow. As Beruka came in to strike, Corrin whipped her tail down and smashed her and her wyvern through the deck of the ship.

There went the rescue plan. Last ditch effort, I pulled my sword up and stabbed right into her leg. Blade cut through, but as a response she threw me overboard. Passed out as soon as I hit the water.

I don't know how long I was knocked unconscious, but considering I didn't freeze to death, it probably wasn't too long. All I know is I woke up laying on top of the ice shelf, someone pressing down on my chest. I bolted up and immediately started coughing up salt water, trying to breathe.

As I came to my senses, two people I didn't know were standing next to me. One was a shorter, pink haired girl in a Hoshidan priestess outfit. She was hiding behind Subaki, who still had his spear out. Both of them were wet, which meant they were the ones who fished me out of the drink.

We didn't speak much. My pride was too wounded to even say 'thank you'. I just sat there, letting Princess Sakura heal any bruises I had while Subaki stood guard. Once in a while we would share looks, both of us trying to make sense of the other. Neither of us really knew what to do next, though. Nominally, we were still enemies.

After that, they flew me back to the ship. Rest is history.

* * *

The farmstead was quieter than a graveyard.

On the flight down, the four of us could see something had happened here. Half the fields had been trampled into nothingness, one of the barns was completely collapsed. As we landed, we saw a few more bodies scattered across the ground wearing the Duchy's colors.

"So much for a safehouse." I observe, trotting past one of the bodies. Wisps of ash are coming from the wound, meaning it was a risen attack.

"We're not too late, are we?" Caeldori questions, her head looking around rapidly for some sign of life. The only other thing we could see was Gerome, still coasting above us to keep a bird's eye view of the area.

"Let's not make assumptions without more information." Mother assures, bringing her mount to a halt. Nothing much else to observe, though. Feels like we're the only living thing near here, even counting the risen.

We slowly ride across the complex towards the central house, which is surprisingly untouched. A large, rural estate three floors tall and half a city-block wide. Scratchless white paint and ornate windows, with a thatched roof that looks like it was put together yesterday. Some count probably called this home, one day. Now it's abandoned and pristine, like a museum piece.

Oooor the door just opened. Nevermind, not abandoned.

A pair of heads stick themselves out, one wearing a soldier's helmet while the other seemingly covered in bandaging. They turn to one another, probably speaking, before they both run out to meet us. Immediately I recognize them both as members of my-... _Gwen's_ unit. One being the man whose practice ring I 'borrowed' for that spar, the other being the woman who as going to referee it. Both of them are worse for wear, uniforms are dirty and torn, but they're alive.

I smirk at them as they stop in front of my pegasus, leaning forward to get a better look. "Connor, Claudette. You both look horrible."

"Sorry we still work for a living, ma'am." The man responds to me, lifting his bandaging up so both his eyes are on me. Can see the bottom of a nasty gash, must've taken a glance from a blade.

"Glad to see we aren't the only survivors." His partner chirps, looking between Mother and Caeldori with confusion. "Um… Captain Takeda? Why are there two of you? And why does she look older?"

Mother chuckles in amusement as Caeldori nervously laughs in embarrassment. No good explanation as to why they both look so alike, but that's something we're going to have to deal with as long as they're together.

"We can discuss that later. What happened?" I interject, saving them both from an explanation as Minerva howls above us. She and Gerome start to veer off, gliding towards the far edge of the fields. Great, something got their attention.

"We were cut off, Major." Connor explains, scratching his cheek with his hand. "Bunch of us got together and just ran in the direction with the least amount of Risen. A while later, we found this place."

"A bunch of us got hurt in the escape. There's a lot of people who can't walk anymore inside." Claudette informs, throwing a thumb back over her shoulder. Behind me I hear someone rustling with their stuff. "We sent a group to see if there was anyone else. Is that why you're here…?"

I nod, deciding to not tell them the complete state that the group was in when they finally reached us. Though with news like this, I'm glad mother and I brought healing rods.

"How many of you are inside?" Mother questions, already holding her rod in hand.

Connor eyes the rod, putting two and two together. "Injured? Ten. Total? Eh… around sixty?"

"That's still twenty people short." Caledori grimly reminds them.

Both of the soldiers share a look. Sorrow, regret, shame. A hundred different emotions tossed between one another before they look at us again. "We… we had to leave some people behind." He tells us.

As Caeldori gulps, I sigh and shake my head. "Nothing we can do about it now. Let's just get inside."

"Follow us, Major. And Captain Takeda. And… other Captain Takeda..." Claudette awkwardly says, leading us towards the main house.

"Half right." Mother says, throwing the poor pikewoman a bone as we tread behind.

As we dismount and head inside, we see that that those who could walk have been busy. Before we entered, I saw two people were on the balcony surveying. Inside, the windows have been boarded up, there's barricades set from hall to hall. One person's standing guard at each entrance, while others seem to patrol from floor to floor.

All the bedrooms on the second level have been turned into a field hospital. People with injuries lay on beds, sit in chairs and wait. As we pass, we see a pair of them playing cards. Another group's trading stories, going silent as they see the three of us suddenly walk past. Actually, everyone does that. Soon as they catch a glimpse of me or Caeldori, their whole faces light up. Guess they think the rescue party's here.

Dunno if we can call ourselves that, but we need to link this group up with the main one.

As we reach the third floor, Claudette splits off. Says something about 'raiding the pantry.' Caeldori's stomach grumbles and she laughs, saying she'll bring a hunk of turkey for her.

Which leaves Connor leading us towards our final destination.

"This was the Count's business office, we think. Made this our command center, sort of." He explains, gesturing grandly at the old oak door. The fleur of Roseanne's engraved in each panel, with the knobs dully shining at us.

"I am impressed." Mother admonishes. "You have maintained cohesion under very extreme circumstances. I would not expect this out professional soldiers, let alone militia."

"You can thank the Captain and the Lieutenant for that." He answers, which makes me sigh again. This time in relief.

"Gwendolyn and her second are here?" Caeldori asks, wanting absolute confirmation.

"See for yourself." He replies, giving the door three quick knocks.

" **Connor? Y'bring those fliers here?"** A voice I instantly identify calls through the wood.

" **It's Miss Severa and Miss Caeldori, Captain! And they brought someone new!"** He yells back.

"We're _right here_ you know." I tell him, mildly irritated.

" **Well stop dickin' around and let'em in!"** The voice calls back, in response the soldier starts to open the door. He twists the knob, then pushes. But it doesn't budge. He pushes again, nothing.

"Oh for the love of-" I start, shoving him out of the way. I bring my foot back, then send it smashing right between the knobs where the locks are. The sound of splinters fills the room as the door careens open, but it's not like I care. This isn't _my_ house.

We're greeted by the sight of an old desk, something that probably costs more than I make in a year. Around and on top of it are even MORE things that probably costs more than I make in a year. Silver tankard, golden table clock. Lots of gem encrusted jewelry all in one big pile. Top it off with two large bottles of wine, one of them already uncorked and half empty.

The scene is completed with Gwen, sitting in a chair that I _know_ costs more than she's made period. Her feet are on the desk, and she's spinning what looks to be the chain of a pocket watch around her finger. Her helmet's off, and her hair's spread around helter-skelter.

"Was wonderin' when you two'd find me." She said, grinning from ear to ear around her treasure trove of loot. She sets the watch down, standing up and grabbing the bottle from the desk. "Connor, go find Dijon and tell him tuh cycle the guards."

"Yes ma'am." He says. Soon as he looks at me, and judging by his expression, my plus twos, he realizes he should beat feet. Which he does, behind us I hear the door close shut.

Gwen chuckles happily, taking a drink from the bottle. Though as she sees how I'm glaring at her, she stops and looks towards me. "Uh… Miss Sev? Somethin' wrong?"

"You're looting? Are you kidding me?" I tell her, too angry to even open with sarcasm.

Gwen snorts, taking another drink without a care in the world. "Aw, I ain't hurtin' nobody. Just uh… 'acquirin' assets for the Ducal Militia.' We're allowed tuh demand quarters in wartime." She reasons.

My jaw locks up, fury building at her blaze attitude to robbing people. Caeldori stomps past me, going up to her friend and tearing the bottle out of her hand. Gwen lifts her hands up in surrender, not making any motion to stop my daughter. As she tries to re-cork the bottle, Gwen looks over to see my Mother standing by me.

"Uh… who's she?" She asks, not beating around the bush.

"Reinforcements." I answer. "That's not important, what the hell are you thinking!?"

"If this was Ylisse, I'd have arrested her already." Mother drones from the side, the same tone of voice she always used with me whenever I did something wrong as a child. Which meant Gwen was in really, really deep trouble.

"Well this ain't Ylisse now, is it tall, gold and hardass?" Gwen replies. On reflex, I facepalm. She just signed her death warrant.

Mother slowly came forward, arms held in a military rest behind her back. Each of the boards echoed as she walked, like an orchestra before a monster struck from the depths. Between my fingers I could see the approach, praying to the Gods I wouldn't be next for letting this happen.

Gwen was unphased. She even burped, the wine catching up to her. Oh for Naga's sake I'm about to witness a murder.

"I thought Virion would hold his officers to higher standards than this." She observes, waiting for an opening.

"I got raised from th'ranks. Folks like me give a lot less of a crap about nonsense rules." Gwen answers, scanning my mother again, before looking around her and towards me. "Sev, seriously, who's this lady and how do I get'er tuh piss off?"

I cringe audibly, Caeldori looks like she can't decide to be either shocked or beside herself.

"My name, is Cordelia Volkner." Mother tells her. Immediately, I see Gwen's smarmy mood trip over itself. Her eyes travel up to meet my mother's, and the dawn of just how badly she's screwed up washes over her.

"She's my cousin." I fib, best to establish that lie early before people ask questions. "She's also the Captain of the Ylissean Royal Guard."

"...Ah. I understand." Gwen says, her eyes not moving an inch away from Mother's face. Normally I'd love to see someone getting the screws put to them, but when it makes me look bad. Especially to my Mother! This is the last thing I wanted to happen the first day we see each other again!

"Is uh…" Gwen starts, not able to get the phrase out normally. "Is there a chance we can forget this happen?"

"Not at all." Mother replies. "However. I may decide to not report this to your monarch, assuming you leave all of this here where it belongs."

"Done." She promises. "And I apologize for callin' you a hardass."

"Apology accepted." Mother says, before stepping to let me and Gwen look at one another. "And to your Major, for shaming her like this."

"...Sorry, Severa." She mumbles.

"How were you even going to get all of this out of here?" I ask, not accepting or denying her words.

"Would you believe me if I said I wasn't?" She asks back, though the look I'm still giving her probably is all the answer she needs. The green haired soldier groans. "Come on, Cap. You know I grew up in th'poorhouse! I just wanted tuh be near some nice things for a bit, that so wrong?"

"We're in the middle of a battle." Caeldori reminds her.

"Yeah, so I might die in the next ten minutes!" Gwen yells back. "Pardon me if I wanted tuh feel like a noble before I ate it!"

" **Enough."** Mother announces, shutting all three of us up quickly. She eyes me quickly, then eyes Gwen, then me again. "She's one of your company commanders?"

"Look, I know this isn't the best first impression, but Gwen's a good soldier." I tell her, trying to salvage what I can from this total catastrophe. "You said yourself, she's kept everyone really organized!"

"Quite." She observes, before looking to Gwen again. "Are you a mercenary or a militia member?"

"Neither, ma'am. Ducal Guard." Gwen tells her sharply. "Lotta us got put in leadership for the new recruits."

"Sensible. Explains how you have an understanding of leadership." She analyses. "Well, I suppose if someone can earn _Severa's_ approval, then they must be capable in some regard."

"Thanks… I think?" Gwen says.

The house suddenly started to shake. Outside we could hear an explosion, followed by a screeching roar that could belong only to Minerva.

Gwen said something about going to the balcony before running off. The three of us weren't far behind her.

* * *

There as a large cloud in the direction we heard Minerva scream. Brown and green floated around, knocked all over and killing all of our visibility. We couldn't tell what was going on, or where Gerome even was in that mess.

Not like that was going to stop me.

All of our pegesai were already airborne, the shockwave must have spooked them into the air. Mother whistled out to steed, and Aurora darted down. Hinoka followed suit, with Camus bringing up the rear.

As my family boarded and took off into the sky, I started to add two and two together in my mind. First the bodies in the lake, then what happened to Subaki's horse. Wolt took off into the sky, just like our mounts did before. He could sense something was wrong, and got out of danger. Which meant the floor was basically lava.

I turned to Gwen, pointing back inside. "Get everyone on the second and third floors! Stay away from the windows and **don't** get noticed!"

"What about you three!?" She asks, the lookouts that were posted already heading my words and running to safety.

"We'll be in the air. Just do what I say, and try not to get yourself killed!" I tell her, Camus snorting impatiently.

"I don't like it, but alright!" Gwen answers, following the others and slamming the door shut. Finally, I get on Camus. We shoot up into the sky, joining up with the others.

Even up here we can't really see what's going on. Too much crap in the air, it's like trying to stare through soup. This cloud is MASSIVE, too. It's covering a whole crop field, and even some of the closest barn.

Again, I hear Minerva cry out. This time followed by what sounds like her breathing fire.

"What's the plan?" I ask, fresh out of ideas.

"Diving in blind would be suicidal!" Mother points out.

"So we wait here? What about Mister Gerome!?" Caeldori asks.

Normally, this is where I'd say Gerome could handle himself. But right now my gut is screaming at me to do something. The back of my mind can tell something very bad is about to happen if we don't get involved, quick.

Then, out of the top of the cloud, I see something get launched into the air. At first I think it's nothing, too small to be Minerva. Maybe a wheelbarrow or boards from a shed. But again my gut says to go, and before I say anything Camus is already flying off towards it.

As the object reaches its peak, I finally make it out. A man in black armor, flailing in the air as he tries to grab for dear life.

Gods damn it, Gerome. No is not the time for your vertigo to kick in!

" **Camus, faster!"** I command. For once he doesn't sass me and does exactly that, launching us forward with even harsher flaps of his wings. Before I know it, and as he starts falling, we're right underneath Gerome's descent.

I give Camus' reigns a tug, eyeballing my friend as he drops. I press both of my feet deep into the stirrups, tightening my legs against Camus' body, then lean my arm out as the wyvernless rider plumetts down to the earth underneath us.

Pain and strain races up my arm as Gerome grabs on. His weight nearly rips me out of the saddle and down to death with him. But Camus compensates, jerking to the side. As I yell out in effort, both our combined strength hoists him upwards.

Gerome scuttles aboard, sitting behind me and clutching onto my back for dear life. I can hear his heart banging through his chest, and this grip he's got on me is gonna squeeze all the air from my lungs.

I turn us back around, and fly to a safe distance away from the cloud once more.

When I regroup, we flutter there for a few more minutes. The dirt finally starts to clear…

...And in the center of it we see Minerva, struggling as two large hands keep her pinned to the ground. One holding her mouth, the other grabbing her wing.

"What in the name of the Dawn dragon…" Caeldori asks.

"Less _gawking_ , more helping Minerva!" Mother orders, taking the lead again and diving towards the wyvern as it tries to wrestle out of whatever is imprisoning her.

As we all torpedo down, though, it happens.

Minerva keeps struggling as best she can, rolling and kicking. Trying to get airborne again. Time after time, we see her go up, only to get slammed back down. Each hit sending shockwaves that shakes the buildings around, leaving a wyvern-shaped dent in the field.

A blast of fire spits out of her mouth, making the hand catch flame and release its grip. She unleashes one last angry cry, landing on her feet and trying to pull her wing free of the last hand's grip.

Then the second hand shoots back up.

This time, it grabs onto her other wing.

And all I can do is watch as both of them get torn off her body, binding her to the ground forever.

The hands pull both of the wings underground, leaving two sinkholes behind. Just like what happened to Subaki's horse, gone in an instant. A large mound of dirt appears, like something digging underground, trailing off back towards the forest.

The three of us land onto the ground, Minerva thrashing about in pain as blue blood starts to pour out of the holes. Crying over, and over, and over again. Hurt and confused, not sure what's happening or why.

Gerome immediately dismounts, yelling her name in an attempt to calm her down. His voice sounds just as hurt as her's.

Caeldori grabs my staff and runs, feet running through the new dark puddles that are being left all over the field.

And I keep watching, absolutely terrified. Two of the animals who've kept me safe my whole life, felled in as many months.

"We need to go. That thing's getting away." Mother tells me, Aurora's wings already flapping. But it doesn't make me budge. All I see in my world now is Minerva, tiring herself out and collapsing into a bloodied heap. Gerome's holding her head now, talking in gibberish as he tries to tell her it'll all be alright. Caeldori desperately keeps trying to stop the bleeding, her outfit getting coated in blue.

" **Severa!"** My mother barks, waking me up. I look to her, then to the trail, and nod. Both of us take off, pursuing the beast and leaving the battlefield behind.

I can't believe this is happening.

* * *

Ten minutes later, the trail disappears.

The lopsided trees and mounds of dirt mix back into a normal forest. We keep flying in the same direction, searching for clues. None of us want to go back without dealing with this once and for all. My horror's gone away, now I'm just furious. Whatever the hell this thing is just killed one of the only good memories I had of my old life.

So we fly, and fly, and fly.

Until below us, Mother spots a human trudging through the woods. Hooded, and carrying a staff.

Bingo.

Both of us burst through the canopy before the person, surrounding them on both sides. Mother takes the front, while I've already got my blade primed and ready to skewer them in the rear. Beams of sun come down, both from the hole we made with our arrival and between the tree-branches.

"Hold it right there!" Mother commands, hefting her own spear at the figure. It stops walking, the hood shifting up as it looks towards the knight who just confronted them.

Whoever they are is covered head to show in a dark brown shawl. They're tall, way taller than I am. Their build's large and well filled, meaning they've got muscle underneath the get-up. They don't seem afraid, or like they want to talk. Instead all I hear is a weird sniffing sound.

My eyes are focused on the staff, though. It's a simple thing, a purple translucent orb sitting on top of a wooden stick. The orb itself looks like it's covered in the stick's roots. Inside, I can see something scuttering about. Crawling all over the place. Like a bug.

...Like a **beetle**.

"On your knees, put the staff down. Now!" Mother commands. But our 'prisoner' doesn't comply, they just keep sniffing the air. Over, and over again, until they turn to face me. Beneath the hood, I can make out a strand of black hair and a tan chin.

The figure chuckles then, deep and low.

"I thought I smelled Grima. Turns out it's one of his brats." He says, chuckling even more as I look on befuddled. "So you're the runt's kid. I'll admit, I figured you'd look more like us."

Both Mother and I realize what he means by that. Without hesitation, she lunges forward and tries to stab the man. But the ground just sucks him, leaving nothing but the hole he travelled down. He pops back up on the far side, full on laughing at our misfortune now. In his other hand's a green gem, hovering in his hand as it glows bright.

"Here I thought I'd made a clean getaway." He says as the light begins to overtake him. " **Oh well, I'll just make this quick."**

Mother and I both fly up into the sky again, not wanting to risk getting torn to pieces on the ground. But as we do that, the earth blows up again. Dirt, grass, moss, trees. All of it gets thrown into the sky in a cloud as we barely make it out of the blast zone.

When it clears, flying in front of us is what I can best describe as a crocodile. Big and brown with a longer heal, razor sharp teeth and claws that could slash diamonds. It's wings look like it's made of rocks, but are somehow letting it stay afloat just as easily as our pegasi.

We're both dumbfounded. A living, breathing manakete that isn't Nowi, Nah or Tiki.

" **Never understood why a Dragon would lower itself to mating with a** _ **human**_ **."** The creature says, disgust emphasised as he names our species. " **But I guess wiping out a mutt will be my good deed for the day."**

"Who are you!? What are you doing here!?" I yell back, growing more and more confused by the second. A Manakete? Here!? On Valm!? Why!? HOW!? _**THEY'RE SUPPOSED TO BE EXTINCT.**_

Again, he laughs at us. " **Sure, let me just reveal all my plans to the people I'm trying to kill. I'll be happy to, just** _ **hold still!"**_

He flies forward, faster than anything I've ever seen before. Both of us manage to dodge, but I can feel the heat off of his mouth as it barely misses. Mother winds up, I wind down, splitting it's attention while we try to put more distance between us and them.

OK, OK. Think, Sev. Remember what Nah told you! How kill a Manakete One-oh-One!

No wyrmslayers, crap.

No other manaketes to help, crap.

No backup, crap.

…

 **Shit.**

I dive under the trees again, only to hear the thing smash behind me. As I whip Camus around, I see yet another hole in the ground. So he can dive in and out of the dirt at will! Great, as if I didn't have enough handicaps!

Still, this means the further away I am from the ground the better. Up we go again.

But of course, as soon as I try to fly back up, a shot of light goes up from the ground. Wind gushes around at lethal speed, slicing whole trunks in half where I was hovering before. Screw this, the sooner I'm out of his way the better!

Mother's waiting for me above the canopy, not taking this news any better than I am. She's clutching her spear close, constantly looking below us to see for any sign of the homicidal dragon.

"Please tell me you have a plan!" I beg, completely out of ideas.

"I'm thinking, I'm thinking!" She tells me, right as another wild blast of wind punches out from the earth. This one's a bit further off, proving that he can't _see_ through the ground. Must sense based on movement or vibrations or something down there.

"Well think faster! We've got a demi-god trying to eat us alive, and I don't want to be digested today!" I tell her.

She grits her teeth, a vein bulging out of her head as she keeps scanning around the ground. "...We can't fight a manakete without any help. Let's just leave and warn the others."

"Are you kidding me? What if it follows us? We can't risk it killing everyone back on the farm!"

"Calm. Down." She commands, pointing back to the latest hole. "If it was going to kill them, it would double back and do it anyway. He clearly wants to disengage us, so why not let him?"

"...His staff." I say, trying to explain myself. "We need his staff."

"What?" She asks. "Why!?"

"Because I think that's what's controlling the Risen!" I inform her. "Look, it's complicated! I'll tell you later!"

Just as I'm getting ready to go down myself, she zips over and grabs my arm. "Severa, I am **not** letting you go down there! Flying a pegasus into a tunnel that small is extremely dangerous!"

"We can't leave without that thing, Mom!" I demand.

"Then I'll grab it!" She tells me, grip growing even tighter. "You stay put and wait for me up here!"

"Did you even pay attention to what it looks like!?" I bicker back, trying to wrestle my arm free. No luck, she's latched on like a thirsty leech. Doesn't help that this armor isn't as flexible as my old uniform.

Another blast of wind randomly fires up. This one's way, way too close for comfort. Somehow he's starting to zero in on us. "Mom! Let me go, we don't have time for this!"

"I said **NO!"** She yells back, giving another sharp tug. "It's too risky! If anything I should be sending you back ahead of me!"

"Don't. You. Dare." I hiss, my blood going cold at the idea. Sending me back, leaving her here to fight a dragon by herself. Is she insane?!

"Then do as I say! I'm not losing you a second time!" She tells me.

" **And I'm not losing you the way we lost Dad!"** I scream back at her.

That last shriek makes her grip slacken. Mother goes pale as a ghost, not sure what to say next. Neither am I, honestly. That outburst came quite literally from nowhere.

But it's true. Father already gave his life to protect us, and now she's getting ready to do the same thing.

I know that look in her eye, it's the same one he gave me right as he started to fade away. As if he was giving me an apology for disappointing me one last time. Except then we were on Grima's back, surrounded by all the other Shepherds. Now it's just the two of us, hovering here. Yet the future wants to repeat itself. Me and her, standing in that doorway. Her handing me the ring before she left, never to come back.

...This time I'm gonna make it right.

"Thank you. For everything you've done." I tell her, pulling my arm back. She doesn't respond, at this point she's despondent. "I'll come back with the staff. Trust me."

Her breathing's low and shallow. This must be a nightmare scenario for her come to life, me rushing headlong into a suicide mission. Because if I'm afraid of her doing it, she'll be afraid of me following her example.

"I've trained my whole life for this, Mom." I tell her, gently freeing myself from her grasp fully. This logic might backfire, but it'll also be the most honest I've ever been with her. "Ever since I was a kid, all I ever wanted was to be just like you. So let me show you I'm ready."

She keeps staring at me for a few scant moments, then her head nods.

And down I go.

Down back into the forest, and under the canopy.

Zooming between trunks and branches, ducking and twisting around them. Nudging Camus back and forth, helping him avoid anything in our way. Up, down, left, right.

Within a minute we're back to where we first stopped the jerk, fresh holes into the abyss surrounding the clearing. Again, I dive. This time straight into one of the chasms, my hand burning as I use ignis to light my way.

The claustrophobia is maddening. One wrong move and I'll crash into a wall, and he'll know exactly where I am. Chomp me up for a meal and spit out my bones. But I keep going, following the sound the manakete makes as it digs through the dirt. Quick and silent, no mistakes.

Perfect. For once in my life, I need to be perfect.

Soot rains down on us as the earth shakes. Rocks and pebbles are sent loose, giving me new obstacles to dive around. The tunnel's big, thanks to how large the dragon is. But that doesn't make this any less nerve wracking.

Then I see it. The staff, with the manakete's tail holding it tight.

Immediately, I hurl a blast of purple flame at his rear. He roars, the staff falls, and I grab it before turning around.

While he tries to spin, I soar off back the way I came. Behind me I hear him fire off another blast of wind, but I just keep flying. All I can do is fly as fast as I can.

Fly to the surface. Fly to the light. Don't stop for anything.

Fly until I feel the wind hit my back. Fly until it blows us out of the whole, knocking us both back into the open sky and sending me out of my saddle.

The last thing I see is the sun, right before I bring my hand around the orb and channel one last pulse of energy through it. Purple flames engulf the gem, and inside I see the beetle burn away into a pile of ash.

Something else hits me. A large force punches out from the gem as it shatters apart.

And the world goes black all over again.

* * *

 _ **A/N: They're baaaaaaaaaaaaaack.**_


	39. P-5: Divine Right

The Valentians hadn't expected another force to hit them from behind. Nor did they expect the second army to follow soon after

Where the natives had been scattered and routed by the hordes of risen that came forward, these eastern seacomers marched on undaunted. Ylissean ranks kept perfect order, pushing past every soldier who was unfortunate to cross their path. Living or undead, they fell all the same.

Stahl continued to ride with the main force, sticking a ways back from the front line. He couldn't see what was going on, but judging from the sounds and the progress they were making, they were winning.

Not long after Cordelia and Sumia left, they'd found what had already attacked the Kingdom's troops. Morgan's reports of risen were confirmed ten-fold, with a large host of the monsters stumbling their way towards them. But numbers was all they had, and Ylisse could easily counter that with steel and discipline.

During the Third Plegian War, the Grimleal had made ample use of risen in their armies. The Valentians lacked experience dealing with them, but Ylisse had more than they ever wanted. Upon seeing the risen, Ylissean soldiers simply tightened ranks and brought up their shields.

Quickly, effortlessly, the Halidom's forces were able to press through this new threat. Even when the pegasus knights flew off due to new orders, Stahl was able to lead the remaining forces on without much casualty.

Still, seeing these things again bothered him. Too many times he'd nearly been killed by the shambling terrors. Even while keeping a good distance between him and them, knowing they were around was unnerving to say the least.

Hm. The son of an apothecary, turned squire, turned Shepherd, turned 'national Hero', scared out of his skin. Maybe he was the reason why his daughter had such bad nerves. He'd always told Tharja he went into a fight thinking he'd get his lunch handed back over.

Speaking of lunch, may as well have that sandwich a bit early.

He dug around in his saddle-sack, taking out the wrapped up food and giving in a whiff. Making meals out of rations wasn't easy, but you can always make a sandwich if you've got cheese and meat. Even if the meat was salted and the cheese was stale.

As the paladin took a bite, a soldier ran up before him. The man gave him a quick salute, which Stahl awkwardly returned as he kept the sandwich held in his mouth.

"Shomting sha mattuh?" Stahl asked, mouth completely full as chewed away. The reporting soldier looked on uncomfortably, visibly disgusted at the sight. Though it didn't seem like the horseman was going to stop eating, so he may as well just say what's going on.

"Sir, the risen. They're gone." The soldier told him.

Stahl nodded, swallowing the food before he spoke again. "Is it clear for us to send the messenger?" He asked, to which the soldier nodded. "Alright, get to the cavaliers and have them ride over to the Roseannean lines. We'll keep moving, clear out the rest of the risen as we go."

As Stahl brought the sandwich back to his mouth, the soldier shook his head. "Sir, you don't understand. They're _gone._ " He repeated, emphasizing the word.

Stahl paused, confused. The soldier turned around, waving for him to come along to the front of the line.

He had to see this for himself.

* * *

They had all fallen over like nothing, at once.

One moment, Morgan had been surrounded. Shot clean off of her mount, hitting the ground. All around her were Risen, blades drawn and spears at the ready. All she had was a tome and an arrow lodged in her shoulder. Caeda flew above, but she'd yelled at the pegasus to just stay away.

The redhead had gotten to her feet, and through the pain had activated the lightning magic. Electric daggers manifested in her hands, a trick that her father had shown her. It had been ages since she'd fought on the ground, but the girl wasn't going to lie down and take it.

As the horrors closed, she was sure it was the end. She made her final prayers, said sorry to her mother and sister, told Brady she'd miss him one last time. Their lifeless red eyes surrounded her like demented fireflies in a bleak cloud, wrapping her in darkness.

And then they stopped.

Then they fell, collapsed like ragdolls. Instantly beginning to disintegrate into clouds of smoke and ash. She didn't have to lift a finger, and yet through some divine providence, she'd been spared an early demise yet again.

Relief swept over her as quickly as the fatigue. Morgan slumped down onto the ground, stunned as she lay in the ash coated grass. Before long she was laughing, happy to have survived yet another near death experience.

Her flying friend made her way down, landing at her side with a great flourish. Immediately, the black pegasus began to nudge at Morgan's head with her snout. An action that only made the woman laugh even harder.

"Caeda. Caeda! I'm _fine!_ " Morgan promised, still giggling as she pet her partner. The motions seemed to calm the mount down, assured that the tactician hadn't been taken from this world yet. The younger sister sat up, a jolt of pain shooting across her arm as the arrow shifted in place. Morgan yelped, hand flying up to clutch the wound. Blood continued to trickle out, straining over her glove and warming her fingers.

The black pegasus took action, lowering her head once more. This time, towards Morgan's back, hovering her mouth where the arrowhead and shaft had punctured out. Caeda then bit down half-way past, snapping the tip of the arrow off. The metal edge falling harmlessly onto the grass.

Hearing the wood break apart, Morgan grabbed the feathered end and promptly removed what remained. She gave the rear end of the shaft a smug look, before tossing it away and standing up.

"Good thing these jokers can't aim, right girl?" Morgan said, Caeda whinnying brightly as an answer. Going to her satchel case, she dug around before pulling out an elixir bottle. Twisting the cap off and taking a long sip. It tasted like burnt gruel, but the potion did it's work. The pain instantly disappeared, and the bleeding seemed to stop. Though she still had a hole in her shoulder.

Looking at what remained of the injury, Morgan frowned. "Guess I'm gonna need to head back." She deducted, not liking having to leave the field when the battle certainly wasn't over yet. But sticking in the field with only one fully functioning arm wasn't going to do anyone any good, least of all herself. Though if she was quick... the wound could probably be mended in time for her to return.

With that in mind, Morgan mounted her steed once more. A quick beckon was given, and she was in the sky.

Looking around, she realized just how far from the battlefront she'd wandered. The moment risen had been reported to her, she took off like a bolt to try and verify the claim. A mix of surprise and morbid curiosity, she'd had the hairbrained scheme of trying to capture one of them alive. Far as she knew, no one had ever even attempted such a thing. It would've been a boon to her experiments.

Probably would've had to lop off it's arms and legs, but all she needed was a functioning torso anyway.

The masks had been a great start. She was so close to successfully extracting the bug that lived inside of them. But that didn't change the fact that they knew almost nothing about risen physiology. How did they move? Was there any brain function? Were their still organs inside them? Why did they explode to dust whenever they were killed?

All of this and more drove her rampant curiosity into overdrive. Much to Blanche's dismay, but Morgan didn't really care about how a stuffy-britches like her felt on these matters. ' _We can't dissect them!'_ The Cleric had protested loudly. ' _It would be desecrating a corpse!'_

...Technically she was right. And from the looks that Virion and Cherche had given her, they weren't onboard with the idea either.

Oh well, what they didn't know wouldn't hurt them.

Far below, Morgan could see that the battle had reached a total standstill. Blue, purple and green clad soldiers stood in multi-colored pockets across the field. Some sticking with their countrymen, others having formed slapdash bands for the sake of survival. Now that the dust had settled, everyone seemed on the edge. Waiting for the other side to make the next move.

On the far edge, she could see a large group of Valentians withdrawing fully. Their normally proud banners now caked in earth and blood, survivors limping back. It was a sizeable mob, but most of the invading army seemed keen on holding their ground.

Whoever rallied first would probably win this fight in one fell swoop. A renewed sense of urgency spurred Morgan to pick up the pace.

Fifteen minutes of hard flying later, she landed at the line of fortifications that had been dug. A sort of staging area for their army to launch strikes from, with a long line of Roseannean militia holding guard at the front trench.

Before she landed, she saw that they were all disheveled and battered. The camp also seemed a bit worse for wear, though not routed. As soon as she dismounted, a blue cleric was already rushing to her side.

"Commander, are you alright? You've been missing for almost an hour!" The girl asked, immediately spotting the new hole in her arm. Before Morgan could protest, she was already being guided towards the small group of tents.

"I'm fine, Sarah. Really." Morgan insisted, giving the girl a half-cocked smirk. "Lemmie guess, forgot your staff again?"

"Don't start with me. Remember who writes your prescriptions." Her caretaker hummed back. "Gods' bread, Morgan. You need to stop flying off on personal errands without telling someone!"

The scolding from the other Ylissean only made Morgan's laughter restart. Which in response, made the healer release an exasperated sigh. The two entered the medical cantonment, Morgan promptly being sat down on a cot and told to sit still. She stuck her tongue out, pouted, and did as she was told.

"There's a line of messengers waiting at the command post. Colonel Picard is dealing with it, but he's rather slow." Sarah informed, taking two vials and mixing them together brusquely. Instead of going for a stave, she reached for a sewing kit, then marched back over.

Morgan groaned rather loudly. Picard was Blanche's second in command, and unlike her, he had no redeeming qualities. During this act, the cleric waved at the flier with the bottle. "Remove your clothes and lie down, I'll need to fix this the old fashioned way."

The tactician's carefree bluster left, suddenly growing nervous as she eyed the tent. There were others present, but they were all wearing Ylissean uniforms. None seemed armed either.

Catching on, her attendant sighed once more. "The only people here are members of the Expedition. Now please, undress so I can get to work."

Swallowing her qualms, Morgan did just that. She undressed down to her skin, the only article remaining above the waist were the wraps she kept around her chest. For a moment, her brand flickered to life as her nerves grew, but then returned to dormancy.

"You know those leave marks." Sarah noted, waving a finger at Morgan's chest before taking a seat on a stool next to her. "Didn't I tell you to buy proper smallclothes after the rash you got last time?"

Morgan snorted, sucking in a breath as the healer poured the potion where the hole was. It was like a cold fire, blistering and burning. "You think I'm going to fight wearing lingerie?"

"Considering the size of your assets, it might be the better alternative." Sarah muttered, not wanting to have to relive the last episode. Three days straight of applying ointment and seeing parts of her superior she rather would not have seen. "Wait, are you telling me the only bra you have is lingerie?"

"...Maybe." Morgan admitted.

" _Why?"_ Sarah asked.

Despite herself, Morgan could feel her face glowing red. "I-it was the only thing I could buy in Roseanne! Basically all the boutiques were selling lace- wait why do I even have to explain this!?"

"I'm your doctor, remember? You always have to explain yourself to me." The healer replied dryly, wiping the excess away from the now disinfected wound. She knew that Morgan was lying through her teeth, but she didn't know nor care why.

As the Cleric took the needle and began to sew the wound shut, Morgan blew one of her own bangs out of her face. "So why's there a line of messengers waiting for me at the main tent? Shouldn't Blanche or Virion or Cherche be able to help them?"

Sarah paused in her motions, going very still as she realized Morgan hadn't been here for what had occurred. She stayed quiet, finishing up her needlework before bringing her friend up to date.

"The Brigadier is missing." As expected, Morgan instantly bolted up in the cot, eyes wide as saucers. "She lead a group of healers to the front. Something about ferrying wounded back here. They returned without her, the Risen ambushed them."

"Is she _dead?_ "Morgan asked, growing panicked. Sure, she had her problems with her local counterpart, but she didn't want Blanche gone. Just to get her attitude checked out.

"No one knows. Her second in command refuses to send a search party." Sarah continued, starting to pack up her medical kit. "Apparently, she left contingency orders to hold the line if command was lost."

"But Viron and Cherche-"

"Were both critically injured and are both being evacuated to the Capitol _as we speak._ " The healer said, making Morgan go quiet all over again. Silence ruled between the two. The healer finished up with her things, walking to place the back in their spots. Morgan sat in place, horrified beyond belief.

"H-how…" She started to ask.

Yet again, Sarah sighed, fatigued and disheartened. "Risen came. Rushed past our guard detail. Ignored everyone but them, then skewered them both in the command post." She explained. "It was as if the rest of us weren't even here. By the time we dispatched the group, both were bleeding out."

Storms of emotions washed over Morgan in waves. Shock, fear, terror, disgust. All coated with an anger directed at herself. She'd left on a fool's errand, having told Virion and no one else, leaving both him and Cherche behind. If she had stayed, she could have helped. If she could have helped, they could've been fine.

Through it all, she began to add it up. The Risen jumping her mid-flight. Blanche being ambushed on her trip. A strike group coming here and targeting the two leaders of this whole country. Planned, coordinated, and executed to near perfection. It was sheer luck that _she_ survived. Lightning doesn't strike twice, let alone three times, in the same place.

The memory of Gerome and Cynthia, broken and bleeding as they arrived to Roseanne a few months ago. Now she was reliving that nightmare with two more people who meant the world to her.

...No. No, she wouldn't sit here and surrender to her own despair. Not when there was still work to be done.

Morgan stood up, dressing herself and mounting her armor on. Sarah bade her farewell as she jogged from the medical tent to the forward command post.

The cleric hadn't been kidding. A small mob of ten different soldiers were all clamoring around the clearly overwhelmed Colonel. His hands waved up and down, trying to get the group organized into some kind of fashion. Unfortunately for him, it seemed that his peers had as much respect for him as Morgan did.

As such, Morgan forcefully shoved herself into the middle of the gaggle, then grabbed the bumbling officer by the necktie.

"You have ten seconds to tell me why you haven't sent a search party **.** " She ordered, ice dripping from each word. She pulled tighter, the man's tie very rapidly closing around his neck like a noose.

"I… I… decided it would be a misallocation of Ducal resources." Picard meekly tried to explain, easily becoming intimidated as the fire-haired woman had him in her clutches. He quickly recalled the time the foreigner had silenced an argument using a lightning spell, and very much did not want to end up like that building's roof.

"You thought it would be a misallocation to **save your General?** " Morgan raged, pulling his face even closer. The man kept stammering, now trying in vain to pull the tie free.

"I'm only following her orders!" Picard continued to rationalize, doing his best to weasel out of this predicament. "Miss Navarre clearly stated that if she was killed or captured, that we were to hold and repulse! And as her _loyal_ executive, I am merely enforcing her will while she and the Ducal family is indisposed!"

The messengers were all quiet now, watching with unrestrained glee. Meanwhile Morgan was very quickly beginning to lose her patience with all of this. Picard wasn't an idiot, but he was extremely self-serving. It was an open secret that he thought he deserved to be in command over some Church woman. In fact, when Morgan was in the room as Blanche was given the job, he had stormed out. Cursing each step of the way.

Morgan just never thought he'd go as far as to try and help her get killed. It was treason, but it was treason that could easily be played off as an honest mistake.

Still, he was a liability now. One that she couldn't afford.

In a move that could only be described as 'Severa-esqe', Morgan sucker-punched the man firmly across the mouth. He staggered back, slamming into the planning table before falling onto the grass. Picard didn't move, out like a light.

Morgan rubbed her gloved knuckles, looking over her shoulders to the shocked guards. "Kindly escort the Colonel back to base-camp. He's clearly _indisposed._ "

The two men looked at one another, one nodding before the came over and took the unconscious man by each arm. He was dragged away like a common criminal, out of sight and _hopefully_ out of mind for the rest of the day.

Now being the only voice that mattered, Morgan turned around. She spoke sternly, trying to imitate her mother when she gave orders to the Knights back home. Shoulder straight, stance firm. Asserting her authority in the vacuum while she still could.

She hoped none of them could sense how scared she was under all of the bravado.

* * *

Of all the situations she'd survived, this was the first time in years Blanche had ever been scared.

She hadn't felt fear when the Church lead the march against the Risen seven years ago. There she'd fought through far more hordes of the undead, combing through destroyed and slaughtered towns by the dozens. No, then she only felt anger and hatred for Grima.

She hadn't felt fear in Fort Stieger, when the resistance member had lodged that spear into her side. All she had felt then was anger as well, along with a rush of energy that had ended with her lopping the poor dastard's head off. A churning bloodlust for all who dared stand against Walhart, particularly once she'd heard Virion was part of the attack.

No. The last time she'd truly felt afraid was when the Conqueror first came to Roseanne. While she hid in the city's cathedral, shepherding civilians inside as a safe haven from the missles and trebuchets that fell onto them. Flaming arrows and boulders reducing much of the city to rubble, bodies lining the streets and soldiers going from building to building hunting down anyone who dared to fight back.

This situation had been an unwelcome refresher.

Blanche had been marching through the woods for a while now, having cut her way through the Risen who'd dare attack her men. She had bought them time to flee, but in the process had cut off her own path to rejoin them. So instead, she'd run in the opposite direction.

Right into a Valentian column. The only plus side was that they were easier to kill than the Risen.

Now she marched through the forest, covered in ash and blood. Her axe gleamed grimly in the sunlight, red having baked itself into the steel. Each step she took left a clear trail behind her, leading back to the massacre she'd carried out.

It was no wonder that even more Valentians found her once more. This time surrounding the War Cleric, forming a box in the trees around her with arrows nocked. She stood firmly in the middle, axe not leaving her grasp. Every inch of her being told her this was it, this was the end. And in her mind, Blanche knew she wasn't ready.

But that wasn't what scared her. The sound of clunking steel is what sent a chill down her spine.

A tall, dark man in green general's armor came forward. In one hand was a long poleaxe, the other a battered shield that had seen more action than most people would witness in their lives. His face was marred with scars and burns, each one a mark of someone's failure to put him six feet under.

The towering behemoth stopped ten paces in front of her, staring her down. Like a statue casting a long shadow over an ant.

"Blanche." The man spoke, his voice like an earthquake.

"Maddox." The cleric answered, tightening her grip.

"Here I thought we were on a first name basis." The General commented, letting his sheild fall and dig a small crevace into the dirt with the force of gravity alone. "How long has it been?"

"Two years, at the Conclave's summit." Blanche recalled, posture unchanging.

"Hrm. Feels longer." Maddox said, taking in his opponent's battle-hardened apperance. "I thought you'd given up on killing."

Blanche grunted, blowing away some crimson dribble from her mouth. "Well, _Linus_ , you forced me out of retirement. Just be glad I let them most of them run."

The man grunted. "They're going to need therapy after what they saw you do."

"Like these archers will, when I'm done with you?" Blanche taunted, faking bravery in the face of a man who she knew could kill her.

"I'm not here to fight." He said, spinning his weapon before slamming the spear into the ground. He then released his grip on both items, letting them remain as they were while he went forward. "I'm here to talk about the letter."

The Cleric's stance tensed even more, her axe coming up as the man encroached. "You recived orders as well?"

"I did. Every one of their Knights has." Maddox informed, holding place as he saw the weapon raise. "I just need an answer, then I'll let you leave."

"Not even taking me prisoner?" She asked, not believing it.

"They still think we can solve this diplomatically." He clarified.

Blanche laughed, short and sharp. It scratched like a cough coming out of her lungs. "You're **invading** my **home**. What kind of mad diplomacy is this!?"

"That was Albein's doing. I'm in formally his service, just like how you're in Virion's." Maddox explained, drawing the obvious parallel of their positions. "Though I'm surprised, considering how badly you wanted to kill him."

"We reached an understanding." Blanche said. "One that makes me question why the Conclave would go against Tiki's instruction."

"She's been overruled." He informed.

"Overruled? The daughter of Naga?" Blanche repeated, instantly calling his bluff. This was absurd, the idea that a demi-god's word could matter less than a counsel of old windbags who never left the Mila Tree. "You're joking."

"I wouldn't be following through with this if I was joking." The General assured, resolute in his words. "She's been overruled."

"By **who**?" Blanche demanded.

"The only one who **can** overrule her."

That information made Blanche break her stance. Her arms dropped to her sides, axe still clutched tightly in hand. The cleric's couldn't believe it, if it had been anyone else saying it, she wouldn't. All the while, Maddox stomped forward until he was right before her.

"I need an answer." He repeated for the final time.

"It's not possible." Blanche asked, voice small and unsure.

"Do you really think I'd be risking this if it wasn't true?" He observed. "They've already given him the relic. I saw him use it with my own eyes."

It was impossible. Never in a million years did she think this would happen. But these past few months had been a return to the impossible. With the Risen, the two Fellblood girls and these new wars. Everything was changing once more, just as it had when Grima had been resurrected.

The Cleric sheathed her weapon, her hands unclenching. The fear only grew, spreading from her spine and digging into her soul.

Blanche knew the man before her well. She knew he wouldn't lie about something this serious.

Which meant she only had one choice.

* * *

Cordelia sat next to her daughter's unconscious body, sending a prayer to every God and Goddess she knew.

As Severa had flown back out of the tunnel, there had been a pulse of energy. It blew outwards, expanding in every direction before sucking itself back into the staff. Her pegasus had caught itself mid-fall, but not in time to catch it's rider as well. That duty had been hers, flying downwards and plucking her child from the sky before she became a red smear on the forest floor.

The Captain didn't know what Severa had done. Only it's repercussions.

She'd returned to the farmstead as fast as Aurora could fly, both of them landing to be greeted by Gwen and the same two soldiers who had welcomed them at the beginning. The two had panicked as they saw Severa's birthmark burn through her glove, but Gwen had quickly silenced their fears. Together, they rushed her inside, setting her in a cot within the count's office next to Gwen's plunder.

Outside, the country girl could be heard talking to the two soldiers.

"Listen tuh me." Gwen said, staring both of her juniors down. "Neither of y'all are gonna say a thing about that mark, got it?"

Claudette and Connor looked to one another, neither comfortable with this new information about their old Captain or this situation as a whole. But Gwen quickly snapped her fingers, drawing their attention back to her.

"Look, I know yer both nervous. I was too when I found out." She continued, before stepping to the side and pointing through the door where Severa and Cordelia lay behind. "But that woman's led us through _hell_ and back. She came out here tuh save us when anyone else woulda written us off fer dead."

The two militia members kept quiet, neither sure if they should speak up next. In truth, they didn't know _what_ to do even if they wanted to tell someone. And both of them knew what would likely happen if the fallen flier was found out.

Besides, they were scared of the mark, but they weren't scared of Severa. She'd more than earned their trust.

"We won't tell a soul." Connor promised.

"I'm honestly going to try and forget I saw anything." Claudette followed up.

Gwen chortled. "Yeah, good luck with that." The hayseed noted, when she saw four figures marching towards them in the hallway. Caeldori was at the front, leading what seemed to be three other pegasus knights.

Connor and Claudette saw the oncoming entourage, and decided it was time for them to leave. Both soldiers moved down the hall, traversing around the fliers and returning to their posts.

"Lemmie guess. More Ylisseans?" Gwen asked as Caeldori and her company arrived. Carefully, she took in the new arrivals' appearances.

Two were falcon knights, wearing similar uniforms to the Volkners. The white haired one kept a horned visor on her head, while the onyx haired woman had a blue cape hanging off her left shoulder. Between them was a strawberry blonde woman wearing strangely unarmored outfit, two shields hanging off her hips along with a pair of tomes.

"They're here to help guide everyone back." Caeldori told her, nervously peering into the room that Gwen was guarding.

Getting the hint, Mire pushed the door open and cleared the way. "Well, go on. I'll get everyone ready tuh march."

The three women went inside, but Caeldori remained where she was. "I'll help you. I've done all I can for Minerva."

"Can it move?" Gwen asked, prefering to keep distance away from things that could breathe fire. De-winged or not, wyverns still weirded her out.

" _She_ can walk. And she'll be able to carry those who cannot." Caeldori corrected, a spike of annoyance filling her breast. For the past half-hour she'd been jumping between healing the poor beast and consoling Gerome. Both had taken her full attention, and both had left her emotionally drained. Not even counting what had happened to her mother.

Gwen folded her arms over her chest, then shook her head. Reading people was a skill she'd picked up back when she stole for a living, and Caeldori read like someone who was in deep need of a break. "Go rest. I'll handle it when they're done."

"But-"

"Looie, please." Gwen insisted. "All due respect, but you look like _dogshit._ If anythin' you should be restin' more than half of us. So stop bein' such a friggen' martyr and take a break fer once."

Caeldori stood still, trying to form a protest, but not able to do so. She _was_ tired, and she _was_ hungry. Her grandmother had already assured her that everything was fine, and though she wanted to be with her mother now, the room was already quite occupied.

"...Thank you, Gwendolyn." Caeldori said, grateful for the concern.

"Mmhm. Now, let's go get some grub. There's turkey legs with my name on'em, and I'm willin' tuh share." Gwen informed, making a spinning motion with her finger. Caeldori smirked, turning and leaving the door with the local following behind.

After all of this, a little rest would do everyone good.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Originally this was supposed to be a 2K long blurb to post a few days after the last chapter, but it grew into a full blown installment. Oh well.**_

 _ **o/**_


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